“He didn’t even give you his number?” she shouted, throwing her hands in the air. “Mom, he did that so youcouldn’tcancel. That’s a huge red flag,” she insisted.
I dropped down onto the couch and sighed, holding my head in my hands. All I wanted to do was cry. Why was this so hard for me? Why could I see the red flags for my daughter, but not for myself?
“Fine,” she huffed, and I looked up at her.
“What?” I asked.
“We can go have dinner. It’s a free meal, right?” she asked with a smirk. “I’ll ask him questions and sus him out for you.”
I jumped off the couch and faced my daughter. She clearly had the wrong idea.
“I don’t need you tosushim out. I don’t want to date him.”
Frankie shrugged. “He’s not ugly,” she stated.
No, he wasn’t ugly. But he didn’t make my heart race, not the way someone else did. Zero didn’t have me thinking about him nonstop; in fact, I almost forgot about tonight until Frankie asked me what was for dinner.
“I should cancel,” I mumbled, falling back onto the couch and tilting my head back to stare at the ceiling, contemplating every life choice I’d ever made. There was only one that I never regretted, even for a second. And she sat down next to me on the couch.
“Do you find him attractive?” Frankie asked.
“He’s good-looking,” I agreed.
“Then he deserves a shot at least, I guess. And if you need me there to make sure you don’t do something dumb like fall into his bed on the first date—”
“Francesca Delilah Lewis!”
Frankie grinned at me, and I rolled my eyes. “No more television for you.”
Frankie laughed, knowing I was talking bullshit. We watched TV together every evening, but I tried to stick to the older shows. The ones that weren’t quite as filled with sex as they were nowadays. Then again, the older shows might have just gone over my head because I watched them when I was young.
I’d pulled up a couple of episodes ofBlossomafter Slyce compared Frankie to Six. There were definitely way more innuendoes than I remembered.
“It’s one date, right?” Frankie said, and I sighed, rolling my head to look at my daughter.
“One date,” I agreed.
It was almost six o’clock, and I was pacing the living room in a panic. I should have canceled. Why was I listening to my twelve-year-old? Probably because she was smarter than me. She even helped me pick my outfit.
A basic pair of jeans and a semi-dressy top. And by semi-dressy, I meant a vintage tee and a leather jacket. Frankie had even given up her comfortable leggings and hoodie for a look similar to mine.
Frankie and I eyed each other when we heard a door slam. Her expression was one of humor, and I knew she was laughing at the look of fear on mine.
The knock was strong without being forceful, and I winced, thinking about how I was listening for something in the way he knocked on the door. I was beginning to think there might actually be something wrong with me. I looked for the worst in people, but somehow still didn’t see it when everyone else did.
With a deep breath, I answered the door and froze. “Oh,” I breathed. Zero stood on the porch with flowers in his hand. Frankie was right; my non-date was definitely a date.
At least in his mind.
My hands trembled as I took the flowers from his outstretched hand. “Thank you,” I offered with a weak smile. “I’ll put these in some water before we leave.”
Why hadn’t I offered to meet him there? Now the ride to the diner would be awkward. Thank God Frankie had agreed to come with us. I prayed she’d be able to ask all the questions I’d never think to ask. Then I chastised myself for relying on my twelve-year-old.
My fingers arranged the flowers just so, giving myself a few moments to calm my racing heart. If only it were racing out of anticipation and not panic.
I turned, giving Zero and Frankie a bright smile, and my daughter closed her eyes and shook her head.
“Ready?” I asked, grabbing my purse.
