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“Have you met his girlfriend?” asked Kaitlin, opening her Now magazine.
“Not yet. Will wanted it to be me and him at first—” Oliver paused as Will returned, carting an open box labelled ‘Hostess Potato Chips’.
“Here you go, Ollie.” He slid the load onto the table. “As promised.”
Georgie craned her neck to see what flavours lurked inside. “Any all dressed?”
“That’s a chip flavour?” asked Oliver.
“It’s four all mixed together: sour cream and onion, barbecue, salt and vinegar, and ketchup. So good.”
His brow furrowed, suggesting otherwise.
“Sorry, no chips.” Will lifted out a VHS cassette. “Just Simpsons. Oliver hasn’t seen the current season, and I’ve been recording them.” Returning the tape, he smiled at his son. “No rush. Enjoy.”
“Thanks!” Oliver’s grin shone brighter than a TTC streetcar’s headlights at midnight.
A warm and fuzzy feeling washed over Georgie. Forget the Leafs’ win; those smiles were what Valentine’s Day was truly about, seeing Will and Oliver discovering all the things they shared in common as their father-son relationship bloomed. She snapped a Polaroid of them chatting and pulled it from the camera, waiting for the image to appear.
Leesa and Michael nudged the box of tapes out of the way, toward the far curve of the booth, and started down a Simpsons rabbit hole with Will and Oliver, sharing favourite lines. Georgie, Kaitlin, and Stefanie, all non-fans, left them to it.
“Okay, you gotta promise me”—across the table, Stefanie swirled vodka and orange in her glass—“you’ll play ‘Popcorn’ at your wedding. That was bonkers fun!”
Glancing sidelong at Oliver busy chatting to Will stood at the end of the booth, Georgie leaned over what was left of her fries. “Stef.” She admonished her through gritted teeth. “Not happening.”
“What? The wedding or the song?” asked Stefanie. “I mean, you guys look pretty loved up, so it’s highly probable you-know-who will end up your father-in-law.”
Georgie could think of worse things, including getting caught talking about it by Oliver. “Not now, okay?” She glanced again at the disintegrating Simpsons discussion as Stefanie’s shoulders drooped.
“Gi, you coming to my book club next week?” asked Kaitlin.
“I haven’t started the novel. Sorry.” Georgie stuffed a cold, vinegar-saturated fry in her mouth and eavesdropped on Oliver’s conversation.
“Yeah, on Oxford Street,” he smiled. “They sell all sorts of collectibles.”
Stood at the edge of the booth, Will flipped through the Polaroids. “So…when’s the trip to London with Oliver, Georgie?”
She paused mid-chew then swallowed hard. “Uhh, don’t know. It’s just—we’re both so busy, and…” She looked at Oliver, who nodded.
“You used to talk about London all the time.” Will started collecting the empty glasses from their table, nesting them inside each other. “You don’t want to go anymore?”
“Of course she does!” bellowed Stefanie.
Georgie shot her a look across the table.
“And March Break is coming up,” said Leesa. “If it makes a difference, the Leafs are on a road trip that week.”
“Until the Saturday,” Georgie replied. “They’re back home on the 27th. I can’t miss it.”
Michael shared a cross-booth nod with Kaitlin as Stefanie, Leesa, and Will nattered on about Buckingham Palace and the guards with the tall, furry hats.
Georgie squeezed Oliver’s hand on the banquette, subtly suggesting they park the subject for another, more private occasion. Leaning into his ear, she whispered, “We already discussed this.”
Oliver nodded. “I know.”
But what they hadn’t discussed was Georgie’s fears about what would happen in six months’ time or whether Oliver had hopes she’d be open to a London move when his contract wrapped, a life-changing decision that still didn’t sit well. Like it or not, visiting the UK on holiday was bound to fast-track that awkward conversation.
She let go of Oliver’s hand and fidgeted with the Polaroid camera, her angst growing with her friends’ escalating enthusiasm.
