I should go with her more, though, if only to see the way it makes her light up. Andi’s good at people in a way I’ll never be, charming and engaging in a way I’ll never be. I’m sure the bible study group she crashed would love to have her back.
“When you came with me last weekend it took you two whole days to get back to normal,” she says, and she’s leaning in, her eyes laughing, her hand still on my arm.
“You shouldn’t encourage Chloe,” I say instead of arguing that point. What Ireallywant to say isI want Chloe to never speak to you again after what she did, but Andi will tell me I’m being unreasonable.
“She apologized,” Andi shrugs. The apology wasn’t nearly enough, but that’s not my call to make. “And it’s not like I’m not going anywhere alone with her ever again.”
Chloe didn’t see the way Andi was shaking in my truck that night, something I can’t quite get out of my head when her name comes up.
“Promise?” I ask, as Andi drains the rest of her coffee confection.
“Of course,” she says, and stands. “Be right back.”
She tosses her cup on the way to the bathroom, and I set about finishing my own drink while definitely not plotting reasons why Chloe Barnes could, theoretically, be arrested for forest crimes.
I’m mid-plot when Mrs. Buckley seats herself in Andi’s empty chair, puts her purse on the table, and smiles at me. It’s a bad sign.
“Sure is a cold one out there today,” she says by way of greeting. “Listen, sweetheart, I’m so glad I ran into you. How’re you doing?”
I know an ambush when I see one, and only wish I knew what kind of ambush this was. Mr. and Mrs. Buckley are longtime friends of my parents’. I have no idea what their first names are. For all I know, it’s Mr. and Mrs.
“Well, and yourself?” I ask.
“Thank you for asking,” she says, and puts a hand on my arm. I liked it better when Andi did it. “I was just at the most wonderful worship service with your parents, and I have to tell you, they put in a prayer request for you.”
“Ah,” I say, because I have to say something. I wish this were news.
“Now, Iknow, but they really are concerned for your happiness,” she continues. I don’t like where this is going, but I’m powerless to stop her from saying everything she came here to say and we both know it. “If you don’t mind me saying so, it’s just no good for a man to be in his thirties and not married. You ought to have a family by now. Don’t you want that? A wife, some sweet babies?”
“I’ve got quite a bit of family already,” I point out, and Mrs. Buckley gives a little huff and arm-squeeze at my non-answer.
“You poor thing,” she says. “Anyway, when I heard your parents’ prayer request, I said, Lord, what can I do to help Gideon find himself someone who’ll love him just as he is? Because here’s a sweet young man who deserves exactly that.”
Everything I’m thinking is far too impolite to say aloud.
“And then, do you know,” Mrs. Buckley says. “The Lord laid it on my heart to invite you to dinner this Friday. Laura will be home from college for the weekend and I know she’d love to see you.”
At the end of her sentence her eyes flick to something above my head, and before I can turn to look, Andi’s hand is on my shoulder.
“Hi!” She says before I even open my mouth. Fuck, am I supposed to stand now?
“Hello,” Mrs. Buckley says.
“Andi, this is—Mrs. Buckley,” I manage, before this can get any further without me. “Mrs. Buckley, this is Andi Sullivan.”
“Deanna, please,” she says, so I guess she does have a first name.
“Lovelyto meet you.”
“Thank you so much for the offer, but I’m actually busy Friday,” I say, politely as I can manage.
“Oh?” Mrs. Buckley—Deanna feels too weird—says. “Saturday, then.”
“I can’t then, either,” I say, apologetically as I can.
“Well, aren’t you mister popular?” Mrs. Buckley says, smile wide and not particularly sincere.
“Verypopular,” Andi pipes up, giving Mrs. Buckley a smile so pure and angelic I expect a beam of light to fall directly on her. “He’s practically got a waiting list.”
