Page 4 of Love in the Time of Conversation Hearts

I twist in my seat to face him again. “Do you want to plan this, or can I do my job here?”

Dorothy gets up from her seat clutching her now-empty wine glass. As she passes Harrison, she pinches his cheek. Hard, based on his resulting wince. “Anything for sweet Harrison.” She releases him and continues to the kitchen on her quest for more wine.

“Oh, we have a beautiful sauvignon blanc that would pair well with deviled eggs,” Lauren offers.

“I like deviled eggs,” Charlie says helpfully. She lowers her voice to add, “Less likely to give you food poisoning, too.”

“I’m old, but I’m not deaf!” Dorothy calls from the kitchen.

I write out deviled eggs on my list of menu items, then jump at a sudden, loud crunching sound in my right ear. Harrison has leaned over the back of the loveseat, and his head is right next to mine as he reads over my shoulder.

“You might want to increase the number of cookies. I hear this year is going to be Heartsong’s best-attended fundraiser yet.” He points a greasy finger at my list.

“Oh my God,” I groan. “Stay or leave, man.”

“Join us, Harrison,” Lauren pleads, her tone much kinder than mine. She’s clearly trying to diffuse the tension between us, like she’s done since we were kids.

“Yeah, stick around,” Charlie says. “I mean, you’re already eating our food.”

“And he’s in the group chat,” Aubrey pipes in helpfully.

Harrison straightens and shrugs, coming around to the couch. “I guess I have an hour or two to spare.”

I stare at him incredulously as he sits in the seat that used to be occupied by Dorothy. He guesses? The man has done nothing but mope around in his room and eat my food for the past two months.

Dorothy comes back in, slowly shuffling her feet so as to avoid spilling her wine, which she has filled to the absolute brim with something red. I hold my breath until she sits in a folding chair closer to the coffee table. She takes a big gulp, then sets the glass down.

“The kids are really excited about their pageant this year,” Aubrey says, once the threat of a red wine stain has passed. The daycare kids at her school always put together a cute show. It’s one of everyone’s favorite traditions.

“What’s the theme this year?” Charlie asks.

“80s love songs,” Aubrey answers with a sly grin. “A few are even going to lip sync power ballads. Landry has a mullet wig and everything.”

I make another note, smiling. “That’s going to be amazing.” I chew on the end of my pen as I flip to the next page.

“Charlie, do you have a job this year?” Lauren asks. “I could use some help serving the wines.”

“Nope.” She pops her P.

I consult my list for things she could do. “Do you want a different job?”

“Uh-uh.”

“Oh, come on, Charlie,” Aubrey whines. “You never take a job, and it’s so much fun. You can help with the kids this year if you want!”

Charlie wrinkles her nose in disgust. “Ew. No. I don’t do kids. My job is to show up and spend money.” She points at me. “You know I’m your biggest donor every year, Cora. I’ll donate even more this year because it’s for the animal shelter. You know how much I love animals. If you occupy me too much, I won’t be able to spend anything.”

I hum in consideration. She’s not wrong. For as little as she wants to participate in town events, she is one of Heartsong’s best supporters, and apparently her paint-and-sip studio does well enough that she can afford it. But there is one thing she could do this year. I look up from my list, my face breaking into a suggestive grin.

“No,” Charlie says again, drawing an imaginary circle around my expression. “Whatever it is that is making your face do that, the answer is no.”

“We’re doing the date auction again this year,” I say.

“Absolutely not,” she reiterates.

“You could support the town and keep your money.” My head tips forward and my eyebrows raise.

“I’ll pay you a thousand dollars if you stop asking me to do this, and I’ll still call it a tax write-off.”