Page 24 of Chasing After You
But Matti never showed.
Probably sat in his room, eating room service, and scrolling through an endless stream of tearjerker animal videos on social media. He’s a sucker for those. Always has been. Even got Knox hooked on them. Nothing is quite as amusing or unexpected, as walking in on two grown men, reeking of masculinity, tearing up at the sight of some stray cat that gave birth in someone’s flowerpot while seeking shelter from a storm or some shit.
I blink, trying to put those images from my mind and return my attention to current events in this kitchen. “And for the record, the appetizers he ordered were loaded with cheese and bacon.” And I’m vegan.
“You didn’t tell him how picky you are about your food?” Roni glares at me.
“First of all, I’m not picky. I just follow a certain diet. I probably consume a greater variety of foods than you do.” I push the brew button on the coffee maker and move on to search for a mug appropriately sized for coffee consumption. “And second, he didn’t ask. He just ordered.” If we’d been on a real date, it would have bugged me, but as it was, I didn’t much care eitherway. We both ordered plenty of food. We both shared everything we ordered. And no one went hungry. Plus, by the end of dinner, the vegan thing came up, so he knows now.
“Are you trying to sabotage your chances with him because Matti’s here?” Tori asks, swirling her wine around in her glass as if she’s contemplating my motives for keeping my food preferences to myself.
“Why would Matti being here change anything? We’re divorced. I’m free to date whomever I choose.”
“Except Matti,” Tori’s eyes narrow and a sly smirk starts to creep in over her mouth.
“Which is fine,” I say slowly, glowering at her for a second before I search the next cupboard for a proper mug. “Because I wouldn’t choose Matti. I left him. Remember? That’s the opposite of choosing someone.”
“You didn’t leave him.” Anna holds up her fork, signaling she has more to say but has to swallow first. “You went looking for yourself. That’s not the same thing.”
People’s need to keep pointing shit like that out is getting to be tiresome.
“Well, it resulted in the same thing. So, it counts.” I finally admit defeat and grab a bowl. The mugs here are abominably small. “Besides, I thought we went over all of this already earlier.”
“We did,” Tori agrees. “But that was before you intentionally set Oliver up for failure over dinner. Now I’m suspicious all over again.”
“I did not set him up to fail,” I gasp, exasperated with her. “If you must know, I’m actually starting to see why you guys thought he would be perfect for me.” It’s not a lie. I’m not starting to be interested, but I’m undeniably beginning to understand why they chose him to be my date this week.
Of course, the implication is enough to redirect the conversation.
Roni about drops her bag of chips, she’s so excited by the news. “You like him!”
“I like him in the way I like pasta dishes. It’s a general liking. I’ve yet to discover his sauce and noodle shape. Time will tell if Ilike himlike him.” It’s unlikely time will change things, but anything is possible, right? Go with the flow and all that.
“Huh.” Tori sips her wine, a glimmer of disapproval returning in her blue eyes. “I don’t recall you needing time to tell if you liked Matti.”
“That’s because I was fourteen and we all have impulsive, unfounded crushes at fourteen.”
“True,” Anna concedes. “Most of us don’t end up married to them though.”
“Probably why you’re not divorced then,” I close out the argument. Or I think I do.
“Probably also why we don’t have anyone sending us random presents out of the blue while on vacation,” Roni says, pointing a tortilla chip at something across the kitchen. “The thing we were pretending not to talk about when you showed up.” She juts her chin out in the same direction when I still don’t move to investigate. “It’s over there on the table in the breakfast nook.”
“What are you talking about?” But I know better than to wait for an explanation that makes any kind of sense. Instead, I move along the wall until I hit the light switch, flicking it on to reveal the table and chairs previously left in darkness. “That’s for me?” I point at the small gift bag sitting right beside the centerpiece of fruits and flowers.
“Yep,” Roni confirms. “Someone delivered it right after we got back from dinner. You were upstairs talking to the kids when it came.”
“How do you know it’s for me?” From where I’m standing, I don’t see any signs of a card or gift tag marked with a name. And I’m somehow too nervous to reach out and pick it up.
“For one,” Tori explains, looking all kinds of annoyed, “the guy delivering it said it was.”
“And two?”
“We looked inside.” If she’s even remotely embarrassed or ashamed, it doesn’t show.
“And you think it’s from Matti,” I come back around to where this odd spinoff started.
“We know it’s from Matti.” Anna’s the only one who doesn’t look upset about it. On the contrary, she looks almost delighted.
