“They’ll be asleep before we leave the lot.”
“Nice quiet ride home for you, then.”
“Yeah.”
As we walked on, the silence grew heavy and a little uncomfortable. It made me wish I was a better conversationalist.
“Thanks for letting me crash your afternoon,” she said finally.
“You didn’t crash anything. The girls invited you.”
“Still. I know you probably wanted it to just be the three of you.”
I glanced at her. “They had a good time. That’s what matters.”
“They’re great kids. You’re lucky.”
“Yeah. I am.”
We reached her car and there was that awkward silence again, stretching out for a second too long.
“Well,” she said, spinning her keyring around her finger. “Thanks again for the rescue. And the company.”
“No problem. Drive safe, Emily.”
“Always.” She hit the unlock, the chirp of the alarm cutting through the quiet lot. “Bye, girls! Thanks for sitting with me.”
“Bye Emily!” Alice and Audrey yelled in unison.
She slid into the driver’s seat and gave us one last wave before pulling out. I herded the girls back a few steps, watching her taillights fade into the line of traffic before I finally turned away.
Alice tugged on my hand. “I like Emily. She looks like a real life princess.”
“Me too,” Audrey said. “She knows everything about baseball.”
“Yeah, she’s nice,” I managed.
“Can we see her at the next game?”
“Maybe.”
“That means yes,” Audrey translated for Alice.
“Sometimes.”
“It means yes this time. I can tell.”
She wasn’t wrong.
EMILY
Istood on my parents’ front porch, staring at the brass knocker, trying to remember how to breathe like a normal person.
You can do this. It’s just lunch. Two hours, max. You’ve survived worse.
I smoothed down my sundress, checked that my cardigan was sitting right, and rang the doorbell before I could talk myself into leaving.
The door opened almost immediately and Mom stood there in cream linen pants and a silk blouse, her blonde hair styled in soft waves, her makeup flawless.
