Page 19 of Confessions of the Funny Fat Friend

Mom quickly said, “Remember to book your flights for Thanksgiving before prices go up on them.”

“Already have one booked,” I said. I didn’t tell her that Gage had used his extra miles to get it for me.

She smiled. “Good. And hey, maybe buy an extra ticket for that girl.”

Mom could dream. Because that’s where thoughts like that belonged.

9

Henrietta

Confession: I’ve gone so long without a relationship that sometimes I have a hard time believing anyone would want to date me.

When I camehome from work on Thursday night and saw a different car in the driveway, I steeled myself for another one of Grandma’s setups. I ran through the way I knew it would go—he’d see me, look disappointed, suffer through an awkward meal with my family, then he’d go home and I’d never have to see him again. (Hopefully.)

I’d been through it before, and I could do it again. And hey, maybe someday, I’d have a real boyfriend when I ran into one of these setups in the wild.

Just as I’d expected, I walked into the house to find another guy sitting at our kitchen table. Even sitting down, I could tell he was tall. He had broad shoulders, a solid chest, a short thick beard, and nearly black eyes that unapologetically studied my body. It was different. And to my surprise, it was nice to have someone so clearly appreciate me.

Grandma stood and walked behind him to pat his shoulder. “Henrietta, this is Houston.”

He stood and shook my hand. His skin was a little darker than mine, and his hand was so large, it enveloped mine completely, and I was pleased to find out he was a good six inches taller than me. Just as tall as Tyler.

Shaking that last thought, I sat across the table from him. While Dad finished cooking, Mom asked him about his work. He said he supervised workers at a factory that made glass syringes. But as soon as he was done answering, he asked Mom about her garden. Talked to Dad about his work as a journeyman. Had Grandma telling stories about her first car.

He was checking all the boxes—tall, decently handsome, interested enough to ask my family about themselves, and he seemed to be listening to what they had to say. He even complimented my dad on the sautéed squash that we’d been eating from Mom’s garden almost every day for the last month and a half.

And when he asked me about work, I told him about my job, steering clear of the hot new contractor who Janessa had forbid me from dating. Ever since he'd rescued me at La Belle, then helped me change my tire the day before, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. The way his muscles had worked under his shirt as he made quick work of the job. The way he'd so easily stepped in to help without worrying about how it inconvenienced him. And most of all, the way he put his number in my phone. I pulled it up every few hours the last couple of days, just looking at the numbers, memorizing them, wondering if I would ever get the courage to do something with them.

I was so lost in my thoughts, I almost missed Houston speaking. “Henrietta?”

I looked up from my plate. “Sorry, yes?”

“Would you do me the honor of going on a date with me tomorrow night?”

My grandma was smiling bigger than I’d ever seen, and even my parents seemed pleased, even at how formal the request sounded to my ears. And to be honest, I didn't really have a reason to say no. He seemed decent enough. My grandma liked him. He was single. And, unfortunately, so was I.

So I said, “Okay.”

While my mom worked on dishes, Grandma said I should walk Houston to his car. So I did.

The evening sun was hot on us as we walked down the sidewalk. It was a newer Hyundai. Nothing flashy, just... okay.

When we reached his car, he took my hand and said, “I’m glad I got off work early to stop by the pharmacy tonight.”

I laughed. “I think my grandma’s overjoyed as well. I know they’re a lot, so it’s okay if you don’t want to follow through on the date. I can make up something about you being in an accident or getting transferred from work at the last minute.”

His full lips quirked to the side. “Why would you say that? I want to go out with you.”

Now it was my turn to be confused. None of the guys Grandma brought home actually wanted to go out with me. “Are you sure?”

He pulled me a little closer. “Your body is bangin’, girl. Of course I want to take you out on the town.”

Flustered didn’t even begin to cover it. No one had ever told me that my body was “bangin’” or even acted like they wanted to show me off. The couple of boyfriends I’d had when I was younger only took me to dark movie theaters or secluded restaurants. It didn’t take long to figure out that they were embarrassed to be seen with me.

“If you’re sure,” I said, smiling slightly.

“I am. I’ll pick you up here tomorrow at eight.”

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