She made a soft moue. “We liked each other, but he was never the kind of boy I was going to marry.”
Harsh. I thought, briefly, of the Barbanel girl and her sailor—another unlikely match for matrimony. “Why not?”
Her mouth twisted slightly. “Perhaps we were both too easily influenced by who our parents thought we should marry.”
“How did it end?”
“Your grandfather and I became serious.” Her scissors snapped together. “I thought.”
“Do you...” I clamped my mouth shut.
“Finish your sentences, Shira.”
Sometimes I thought Grandma reminded me to finish my sentences because she was nosy, not to teach me manners. “I know Grandpa dated Abby’s grandmother when they were young. And I know he was, um, pretty shaken last summer to find out... she’d passed away. Do you know what happened to your old boyfriend?”
“He died fifteen years ago,” she said in her cool, practical voice. “I learned from Facebook.”
Oof. “I’m sorry.”
“Well,mostof us don’t stay hung up on childhood romances,” she said flatly, definitely alluding to Grandpa and Abby’s grandmother. “Hold the flowers higher, please.”
I did. I watched her work, listening to the quietsnickof the scissors, breathing in the scent of plants and blooms. “You’re really mad at Grandpa, aren’t you.”
“Pardon?”
“Because he dated you and Abby’s grandma at the same time. And never told you about it.”
“It was a very long time ago.”
“You can still be mad.”
“I’m not mad, darling,” she said firmly. “Just... disappointed.”
Disappointed.I thought about how furious and humiliated I’d been when Tyler rejected me, and we’d never even been a couple. “Hell hath no fury” and all. Could you ever trust someone againif you felt betrayed, even if it had been a very long time ago? Did time truly mend all wounds, or were some too deep?
“Hand me half a dozen delphinium stems,” she said, and I did, and we moved on.
An hour later, the doorbell echoed through the house. I checked my lipstick in a hallway mirror before slipping to the front of the house, where Grandma, Grandpa, and a few of the aunts and uncles welcomed the Danzigers. Both Great-Uncle Arnold and Great-Uncle Harold stood in the foyer alongside their wives: a quartet of octogenarians, younger than my grandparents but no less stubborn. No children or grandchildren accompanied them, only Isaac.
“Arnold.” Grandma nodded at her brothers. “Harold.”
As they greeted each other, Isaac lingered behind everyone, holding a duffel bag and looking a little lost. A week ago, I would have avoided his gaze and kept my face blank, all the while hoping he’d magically decide to come talk to me. Now I made myself smile when his eyes met mine and lifted my hand in a little wave.
He looked relieved and crossed the entrance to me.
All the individual muscles in my stomach clenched tight like they were squeezing anxiety into my esophagus, where it rose fast and closed my throat. I tried to pretend none of this paralyzing fear was happening. “Isaac. Hi.”
God, he was good-looking: chiseled jaw; windswept hair; dark, serious eyes with long black lashes.
“Shira, hey.” He looked slightly surprised, like maybe he hadn’t expected to remember my name. “Didn’t realize you’d be here.”
Okay, not thebestway to start, with the reminder he hadn’t been counting down the days until he was in my presence, but it took some of the pressure off, didn’t it? I recited my list of tips: smile, eye contact, compliments, questions, casual touch. Tyler gave people his full attention; he was warm and genuine and centered on you. I gave Isaac my fullest smile. “Good trip over?”
He returned the smile, small but still there. “Yeah. Nice of your uncle to bring me. And of your whole family to let me stay.”
“Are you kidding?” I said lightly. “We’re thrilled to have someone not in our family to mix it up. And there’s already a couple dozen people, so what’s one more?”
Immediately, I winced. Had I made it sound like we didn’t want him here? Because I definitely wanted him here.
