Page 100 of When We Were Young

“No, you’re not,” Layla says. She’s grinning from ear to ear.

“Hey, I stirred your frosting a couple of times. Plus, you’ll share with me, I’m your best friend, Ladybug.”

“No, you’re not my best friend,” she says.

“What? Who is your best friend?” Ruthie feigns being appalled, but it’s obvious she’s teasing.

“Simon. He’s in my class at school, and at recess we hang out, and sometimes we play tetherball. But most of the time we walk around and do different things. Sometimes we look for bugs. He likes that.”

It warms my heart to hear her talk about her friendship with Simon like that.

Layla glances over at Ruthie, who wears a fake sad expression. Her eyes dance with amusement.

Layla tilts her head. “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings. You’re my best grown-up friend.”

Ruthie smiles. “I am?”

“Yep. Uncle Harry’s my favorite uncle, but I love them all. Simon is my best boy friend.” She stops, realizing what she said, and her cheeks turn pink. “I mean, boy, that’s a friend. Just so we’re clear. I don’t have a boyfriend. I don’t need a boyfriend. They’re trouble.”

“Not always. My boyfriend isn’t too bad. He even —”

“Nope,” Tillie says. “No Ruthie and Mr. Whitaker stories. They’re never child-appropriate.”

Ruthie huffs but grins at her.

I glance at Delaney. She and Harrison had some problems recently, but they’ve worked everything out. Still, I think the few weeks they were apart were hard on both of them.

“Well, what do you two ladies think about boyfriends?” Ruthie asks. She’s staring right at Delaney and me.

“Delaney has a boyfriend,” Layla chimes in. “I got him for her.”

Lydia chuckles. “That you did, Ladybug. I don’t think any of us will forget you dragging poor Delaney across the reception hall to get her to meet your Uncle Harry.”

There are a few laughs, and each adds something to the retelling of the story for my benefit.

“That would make a perfect meet-cute for one of Georgie’s books,” I say.

“Oh boy, as long as she changes the characters,” Delaney chimes in, her cheeks pink.

“Where is Georgie today?” Tillie asks.

“Heath had some last-minute guests at the house. He doesn’t get home for another week or so, but a few of his teammates are staying for a couple of weeks. I guess Georgie’s helping get them set up.”

“I’m sorry, did you say that Georgie has a bunch of football players in her care?” asks Ruthie.

“Three, I think,” I add.

“Now that would make a nice meet-cute,” Ruthie says. She winks.

“Ruthie, you better mean that in a G-rated way.”

Layla looks confused. “What does that mean, Ruthie? G-rated?” she asks.

I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen Ruthie at a loss for words. No one helps her, and she searches for an answer.

“It’s when something is good for kids.”

The timer on the oven dings, and Ruthie is saved by the bell.