Page 60 of Waiting for Gilbert

I click off the screen, but before I put the phone away he responds.

Bing!

David: It’s cool to make a connection with someone so quickly. I hope it goes well at the coffee shop.

He thinks we have a connection? Mark’s ominous warnings haunt me.Shush!What does Mark know? Okay, so David is not very exciting through a text conversation and an in-person date is the most efficient way to discover for sure if we click. If the date is a bust we’ll never speak again, and I’ll move to another plan.

Plan G. I snicker at my clever coding.No, CJ, Plan G is already a bust.The man has had ample opportunity to make a move and he has not. Except… why does it feel wrong to go out with David?

I refuse to feel guilty for planning dates. Even if my traitorous heart is preoccupied. I’ll wait for Anne Shirley’s Gilbert. The one who wants to be with me, who’s pining for me—the one who’ll stand by me through my silly escapades. And while I wait there’s no harm in practicing my new serious and focused demeanor.

Ha! That’s what this is. Practice. Practice dates. I can practice being CJ. Someone who is just a little—a lot—more serious. A little better at sitting still. Maybe someone that a man in a suit might like to hang on his arm. I can do better. I can try harder. I can be normal.

Cordelia: I’ll order a white chocolate peppermint latte. It’ll guarantee at least one of us has a good time.

David: Oh, I meant that I hope our date goes well.

My thumbs have betrayed me! They hesitate over the two-inch keyboard.

Cordelia: Yeah, sorry. I was making a joke. I promise I’m cool. But it’s only a first date. Let’s not get too worked up.

David: I’m a regular coffee guy. I don’t usually drink caffeine after lunch, so I’m not sure what I’ll order.

Cordelia: Okay.

Cordelia: Hey, I don’t mean to shut you down, but I’m kind of at a thing right now and need to put my phone away.

David: Oh! Okay. Bye.

David: What kind of a thing? Like a Christmas party?

David: Where did you say you lived?

I didn’t. I didn’t say where I lived, because it would be creepy to even tell him what town. He could drive into Hadley Springs and ask anyone where I live, and they’d give out directions.

The screen eventually goes black when I don’t answer, and I’m left staring at my phone’s dim reflection of the Christmas tree. I met my last deadline for work. I’m allowed to celebrate. I should be excited. One afternoon out of town. One date.

“Hi. I’m Cameron.”

My gaze follows the outstretched hand in front of me to dark hair, styled dramatically in a swoop across his forehead, thickly knit beige sweater and jeans. I place my hand in his. “Hi. I’m Cordelia. CJ. People call me CJ.” His hand is soft. Not at all like Gilbert’s.

Which isn’t relevant in any way. Of course.

“May I sit?” He sits beside me without waiting for an answer.

“You’re Gilbert’s brother, right?” I scootch to give him more space on the couch.

The room is beginning to fill, and it’s louder with more guests arriving with food. The couch seems to burn him, because he immediately jumps to his feet and waves across the room. “Hey, John! C’mere.” He sinks onto the couch again, our shoulders brushing. “I was real mad when I heard he rented the cottage to someone else. But I get it now.”

“What?” Does Cameron think I did something to weasel my way into the cottage? “Did you want to rent it?”

“It makes sense. You’re 100% his type. You know the saying, though it’s never true. Bros before?—”

“What’s up?” John’s eyebrows are raised in question once he reaches us.

“What do you think about Gil moving into the big house?” Cameron gestures to me before he drums his fingers on his knee.

“Nope.” John raises his hands. “Do not come crying to me with your family drama.”

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