“As long as you’re not kidnapping me and taking me off somewhere far away, I’m good with that,” I giggle.
“Kidnapping wasn’t on my to-do list today, actually. Too many other things to get done.”
A sense of humor. I really like that.
“Perfect. I’ll see you at two?” I confirm.
“See you then. I look forward to it.”
“Me too,” I almost whisper.
Have my knees gone a little weak? Possibly. Hypothetically.
I hang up the phone and turn to find Mom leaning back against the counter, arms on the counter, grin firmly in place.
Before I can say anything, Gabby stumbles into the kitchen, hair completely disheveled, rubbing her eyes. She’s still in her pajama shorts and tank top, clearly dragged out of bed by the pull of coffee.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” I say.
“It’s the one day I can sleep in, leave me alone,” she mumbles.
I whistle. “Wow. And a grump too.”
“I get the caffeine equivalent of hangry without my first cup of coffee,” she mutters, reaching for the coffee tin.
“Okay, enjoy your coffee,” I say sweetly.
I love coffee, but I’m not dependent on it like she is. I can take it or leave it depending on my mood. Gabby, on the other hand, treats coffee like a non-negotiable personality trait.
Mom clears her throat dramatically.
“So,” she says, eyes glittering, “you’re going out on another date with Nate tonight?”
Gabby freezes mid-scoop, eyes bugging out. “Wait, wait—what?”
I turn to her slowly. “I thought you were too caffeine-deprived to join any conversation.”
“Well, exceptions must be made in times like this!” she says, suddenly very alert. She hurriedly pours coffee into the filter like she wants caffeine desperately but also needs full attention on this conversation. “I didn’t even get to hear about last night’s date, and now you’re going onanotherone tonight?!”
“We had a good night,” I say with a shrug, deliberately casual.
Inside, my thoughts are still anything but casual.
“A good night?” Gabby repeats with a glare, like she cannot believe that’s all I’m offering.
“Your sister had averygood night, Gabs,” Mom says, pumping her eyebrows.
“It was nice,” I insist. “I’m happy to see what tonight is like with him.”
“Okay, but‘nice’is not what I’m looking for, Lizzie Bell!” Gabby practically shouts.
Mom presses her lips together to hold in laughter. “I think we should reconvene once your sister has had coffee.”
“I think so too,” I say, fully laughing now.
“Whatever,” Gabby grumbles, but she’s already hovering near the machine.
Mom and I escape to the greenhouse living room, settling onto the wicker sofas surrounded by greenery. Sunlight pours in through the tall colonial windows, turning the leaves translucent and glowing.
