My mom and I looked at each other, not understanding. Then Ambrose, smiling, reached into his pocket, pulling out a handful of tissues. “Yep.”
“Damn!” William cackled. “I owe you twenty bucks.”
“Am I drunk? I don’t think I’m drunk,” my mom said to me. “But I don’t understand.”
William was still tittering, pulling out his wallet, while Ambrose carefully folded the tissues. Then, suddenly, I got it. “You took those from herbosom?”
Hearing me say this, William busted out laughing again. My mom, trying to look stern, said, “Okay, despite her behavior, that is not appropriate.”
“Oh, I think it’sveryappropriate,” William told her, handing over a twenty to Ambrose, who took it with a grin. “She basically had them there in full view, like a human tissue dispenser. Don’t tell me you weren’t tempted.”
“I was tempted to punch her in the face,” my mom said. “But I guess this is the next best thing.”
“And thenextbest,” William said, “is us finally being done with this event for good. Next weekend, St. Samara.”
“I have not agreed to that, William,” my mom said.
“I already called Dr. Kerr, who contacted his travel agent. We leave Friday morning.”
“What?”
“Natalie.” He put his hands on her shoulders. “When was the last time we got to go anywhere in mid-summer, much less a tropical island? I need this.Weneed this. We’re going.”
My mom, exasperated, looked at me. I said, “I think it sounds great. You totally should do it.”
“See? Even Louna thinks so.” He dropped his hands. “Oh, I can’t wait. I am going to buy a straw hat just for the occasion. I’ll get you one, too.”
“I don’t want a straw hat.”
“You’ll change your mind,” he said easily. “Now come on. Let’s go finish that bottle at your place. Then we can go online and order resort wear.”
My mom still didn’t look convinced, but she followed him to the van, climbing into the passenger seat. To be honest, I couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken a vacation, and never during wedding season. Everything was different this summer.
As they drove off, my phone beeped. It was Ben. Already. Interesting.
KNOW YOU MIGHT STILL BE WORKING BUT I WAS THINKING LATE NIGHT BREAKFAST. WORLD OF WAFFLES?
“Well, that’s romantic,” Ambrose, who was somehow looking over my shoulderagain, said. “Pancakes and thee? That’s a seriously awesome first date. You have to do it.”
I just looked at him until, slowly, he took a step back. “Why are you so invested in this? You were on us like a chaperone earlier.”
“I’m a curious person,” he said, like this was an excuse. “Also I have a lot invested in winning this bet.”
“I thought you said you had it in the bag. That Lauren makes it easy.”
“I do, and she does. But now you’re bringing in pancakes. I have to stay vigilant.”
I looked back at my phone. It was late evening, the wholenight ahead of us. Pancakes would be a great start. And yet I knew I wouldn’t. I’d had the most epic of nights once. Things like that didn’t happen again.
WISH I COULD. WIPED. TEXT ME TOMORROW?
The little dots appeared: he’d been waiting.SURE. SLEEP GOOD.
“What?” Ambrose said. I looked at him. “You just made a face.”
“Did I?”
“Yeah.” He read the screen—of course he did—then clicked his tongue. “And I don’t get it, either. That is good play he’s giving. Pancakes? Telling you how to sleep? How can you not be into that?”
