Sam
Mabel would like to know if you will be attending family dinner tonight?
Olive would like to know if Mabel’s son wants her there or if this is a pity invite.
Sam
Mabel said that her son is the one who insisted she invite you, and he doesn’t like talking in third person this way.
You started it.
Sam
There’s my girl. But seriously, will you come with me?
I have plans with Howie, but I would love to come. What time should I be ready?
Sam
What are you guys up to? Six.
Just having lunch. I’m hoping to discuss his love life. I’m thinking couples’ costumes could be a good tactic to push him and Ari together. Thoughts?
Sam
Well, since I know you won’t listen to a “don’t meddle” speech, go for it. What are we going as?
Yet to be determined. Was planning to ask you to go shopping on Wednesday so we could find something.
Sam
I’d follow you to the moon. See you at six, and be careful.
He’s such a sweetheart.I’d follow you to the moon. No one says that. The guys I dated in college would groan at the thought of going shopping with me. The ones at the country club would simply hand me a credit card and tell me to make sure I dressed to impress. No one has actually ever cared for my wellbeing like Sam does. But there’s no way it’s that simple, that he just wants to spend time with me however he can.
Checking the clock, I realize Howie will be here to pick me up in fifteen minutes. I scurry about my room, selecting a cropped pair of denim pants, an army-green long-sleeve bodysuit, and gold jewelry. It’s casual enough for lunch but acceptable enough to go to a family dinner. I fluff my hair and grab my crossbody purse, coat, and boots while I wait by the front door.
Howie’s Bronco pulls up to the curb, and I don’t wait for him to get out. I cross the threshold, locking the door behind me, and skate down the porch steps to get in.
“Howie, how’s it going?” I ask, smiling at him as I slink into the front seat and buckle up.
“Eh, it’s okay for a Sunday. I had to break up a bar fight last night. It went super well.” He gestures to a freshly painted black eye blooming on his face.
“Oh no. Are you okay? Does Ariella know? Did they get arrested? Who was it?” I spit out a slew of questions.
“I’m fine, and why would she know or care?” he asks, putting the truck in drive and pulling away from the curb.
“Howie . . . come on. I’m not blind. I know there’s something going on between you two.” I turn in my seat so I’m facing him slightly.
“Olivia Bowman, you need glasses. There isn’t anything going on with us,” Howie adamantly denies.
“Ugh, fine. But does it help knowing I’m on your side, and I want there to be something going on?” I’m prying, but we need to get this out in the open.
Howie laughs but doesn’t answer me. I know I’m not the only person who can see the way they interact. It can’t be my imagination, but then again, I don’t have the best judgment right now.
“Where are you taking me? I don’t recognize this part of town.” I look out the windshield, noticing we took a turn onto a new road and appear to be traveling toward the ocean.
“My uncle doesn’t just own Union. He has a small seafood joint down in Bishop. I thought it would be a good change of pace, and I had a sense you wanted to talk to me about something you might not want people in town overhearing.” He gives me a lopsided grin and shrugs.
