Page 13 of Romantic

Brandon

“You’re wearing that?” Pepper asks with a heavy dose of disdain.

“What’s wrong with this?” I’m not going to the office today, so I’m wearing my softest pair of shorts and my Dartmouth Lacrosse t-shirt.

“It looks like you just took it out of the hamper and threw it on with no thought.”

“What? It’s clean—and I thought about it,” I say pointing to my favorite lucky t-shirt. “I thought I’d like to be comfortable. I’m already anxious enough as it is.” I invited Annie to stop by for lunch after her job interview today. It’s been two weeks since I last saw her sitting on the couch with her ankle propped up. I delayed our trip home that morning because, after a tongue-lashing from my ten-year-old, I realized I needed to man up and ask Annie out.

I was just gearing up to ask her to dinner when that guy sauntered in. When Annie asked why I had stopped by, I had to make something up on the spot. My mom had mentioned that her friend Susan might be looking for a long-term sub at her private school, but at the time, I had no idea if that was still true. Fortunately, Susan hadn’t filled the spot, and with my mom’s good word, Annie got an interview. She’ll get the job, I know it. Annie can charm anyone, and she’s a gifted teacher.

The thought of Annie moving to Redwood City . . . I can’t even think about it. I want it too much. I want her too much. Of course, she might be dating that pretty boy. Hopefully, he’s sailed far away and is doing his soul searching somewhere else.

“Chill, Dad. It’s just Annie. You don’t have to worry. She already likes us. She already likes you. Don’t ruin everything by freaking out.”

“Then maybe I should stay in what makes me comfortable.”

“Those shorts are fine, but not that shirt. It’s older than I am, and it has holes.”

“Just two tiny ones.” She gives me a look. “Fine, you pick out a shirt for me, but I retain veto power.”

“Hand over your shirt.” Pepper holds out her hand to me.

“What—now?”

“Yes! I’m not going to risk having Annie see you in that abomination.”

“It’s not that bad,” I say, taking off my shirt.

“It is! There’s ‘vintage’—and then there’s this shirt. Besides, it smells funny, even straight from the wash.” Pepper’s exaggerating, but that shirt has probably seen better days. “I’ll be right back.”

“Hurry up! Annie texted that she’s on her way,” I say, but Pepper is already off. I throw on my apron and get to work.

The menu for today is grilled cheese, homemade tomato soup, salad, and my brown butter Rice Krispie treats. We are sticking with tried-and-true winners. The soup and salad are both ready. All I have left are the sandwiches. While I wait for the griddle to warm up, I butter the bread and put on the three types of cheese: sharp cheddar, gruyere, and mozzarella.

The table is set with a bouquet of flowers Pepper arranged from my mom’s garden. “It needs to be extra elegant,” she told my mom when we got the flowers yesterday, “because dad wants to marry Annie!”

“Um no . . . let’s not put the cart before the horse. I’m just thinking about asking her out.”

“I wondered if there was a woman involved when you bought that resort,” my dad commented.

“I bought it for Pepper, and it’s going to be a great investment. You’ll see.”

“I never said it wouldn’t—I just suspected there was more to it when you moved so fast to buy that property. This Annie must really be something.”

I couldn’t answer. Fortunately, Pepper was more than happy to jump in.

“She’s the most kindred of kindred spirits. I can’t wait for you to meet her.” Pepper’s been reading Anne of Green Gables and thinks Annie is just like her favorite main character. So, no pressure . . .

“I can’t wait,” my mom replied a little too eagerly. “Any chance I can join your lunch?”

“Maybe next time. We don’t want to overwhelm her,” I responded quickly. “And don’t get your hopes up. For all I know, Annie could be dating someone.”

That quieted my mom somewhat, though I’m still worried she’ll make a guest appearance. For the most part, I love living on the same street as my parents. As a single parent, it’s ideal. But now that I’m thinking of dating again, I realize it could be seen as a drawback.

I test the griddle to see if it’s hot enough by throwing a little water on it. It sizzles, telling me it’s ready to go. I carefully put three sandwiches on.

The doorbell rings.