Page 114 of Holiday Hopefuls
The nosy receptionist gives me a cheeky grin. “I don’t know what you mean, Oliver.”
“Mrs. Lanahan,” Rindy rounds the corner, shooting a chastising look at our receptionist, “I should tell Jo you’re up here causing trouble.” A teasing smile slides into place. “Besides, John is still up at Aspen Point, so he’s not here to take your side.”
Jo would be mortified—Nettie Lanahan is only our receptionist because she was Jo’s neighbor as a kid. But she became a surrogate grandmother and remained close throughout Joanna’s life. When her husband passed, she needed something to do to pass the time. The practice was just about to open. The rest is history.
“Joanna loves me and would never believe it,” Mrs. Lanahan says, batting her eyelashes.
Handing over her own files, Rindy playfully rolls her eyes. “Either way, leave poor Oliver alone.”
“Uh-oh. Trouble with the redhead … ” Mrs. Lanahan sings as I turn to walk away.
Rindy grimaces in my direction, walking with me back toward our offices. “Have I apologized enough yet? If not, I will.” Every single conversation between us today has included at least three apologies. “Because I truly am so sorry, Ollie.”
Holding up my hands to silence her, I stop in the middle of the hallway. “Rindy, it’s really okay.”
“Really?” This woman’s sarcasm knows no bounds.
Sighing, I lower my hands. “Yes, really. It was something that was likely to come out anyway. It’s really okay. Neither of us are upset. I promise.”
Rindy nods. “So … when are you seeing her again?”
Pressing my lips together, I can barely suppress my smile. “I actually stayed with her last night.”
“With Nacho?”
“Of course.”
“Of course,” she waves, “go on.”
“I don’t want to ever be without her,” I continue, “so I was thinking about asking if she wanted to move in together.”
Rindy’s professionally tweezed eyebrows raise. “Are you sure about that? I mean, are you sure that’s not a little fast? How will Callie feel?”
I frown. “I don’t think it’s too fast.”
“And Callie?”
Hesitating, my frown deepens. I know it feels like the right decision. But could Rindy be right? Could Callie feel like this is moving too fast?
“You are obviously welcome to do what you like,” she says, “but I encourage you to think about all the factors here.”
“Like what, exactly?” I lean against the nearest wall for support as my friend lays out all the ways I might be an idiot.
“Like,” Rindy sighs, “do you know if she even wants to live with anyone before she gets married? Have you two even discussed marriage as a possibility? Or, she lives alone, right? What if she’s not ready to give up her personal space yet? You’ve really only known one another for a little over a month. Are you going to be okay if she doesn’t immediately jump at the chance to consolidate assets?” My friend’s eyes roam my face with each dooming question. “Look Ollie, I want you to be happy. I just don’t want you two to set yourselves up to fail.”
“What do you suggest I do?” Folding my arms across my chest, I do my best not to act like she just ate the last piece of pie.
Rindy shrugs. “Maybe you should talk to someone else who’s been through a, um, whirlwind romance. And who’s successfully remained married for several decades.” She gives me a pointed look.
After thanking her, I finish up in my office and head to my car. Pulling out my phone, I dial the number and let them know I’m on my way.
As per tradition, my parents are home the day after Christmas and waiting for me in the living room when I arrive. Since neither are working today, they’re sitting in their respective chairs in lounge clothes when I walk through the door.
“What’s wrong?” Mom’s panicked voice would make me laugh on any other occasion.
“Geez, Sandra. Let the boy get in the house before you bombard him.” My dad takes a sip of his coffee. The twinkle in his eye is unmistakable.
My mom turns a withering glare in his direction. “My son called me to say he has something important he needs to discuss, Marshall. What do you suggest I do? Bake him a cake?” She raises thin eyebrows at my dad who, smartly, remains silent. She turns her worry back to me. “Do you want some coffee? Tea? Brownies?”
