Page 99 of Husband of the Year
“No, not him. I mean yes, him. But the paper samples and fabrics and seating arrangements. And now with…” Olan nods toward Greggie, who’s closed his eyes and seems to enter the initial stages of a power nap.
“Between Sheldon and my mother, all we really need to do is make a few decisions. Or maybe many decisions.” I scratch my head. “But they’re going to do most of the heavy lifting. We can just show up and get married.”
Olan envelops me in an enormous embrace. With a deep sigh, his body melts into mine and he squeezes me tighter than he typically does. A quick flip in my stomach gives me pause.
“It will be okay. No, amazing,” I whisper into his ear.
Olan’s lips kiss the side of my neck before moving to my cheek, and finally my mouth. His gaze avoids mine, but he responds with a deliberate nod as if lost in deep thought.
“We should go back down.” Olan gives me another soft peck on the lips. “Sheldon’s waiting.”
CHAPTER FORTY
“Hey, Mom.” I do my best to keep my voice down. Luckily, this morning there are only two other passengers on the bus and they’re sitting near the front.
“I only have a few minutes. We’re almost at school.”
“I figured as much. It’s just after five, but I wanted to catch you.” I hear her take a long sip, and I can almost smell the hazelnut creamer in her coffee.
“Wait, I thought you were three hours behind us?” My mind does somersaults, trying to do the mental math.
“Three in the summer and two in the winter. Remember, Arizona doesn’t observe daylight savings. Who invented this fakakta time change? Were they just trying to confuse me more than usual?”
“I’m sure that wasn’t their intention,” I say, swallowing the kernel of annoyance bubbling—it’s simply not helpful. “Anyway, what’s up?”
“I spoke to Sheldon yesterday. He’s really such a nice boy. And so cute. If he wasn’t engaged to that custodian and you weren’t with Olan, maybe you two could have dated.”
“Is that why you called? To play hypothetical matchmaker in a universe where neither Sheldon nor I are single?”
“No, I’m just saying. He’s adorable. And sweet.”
“He is. Theo,” I say his name sharply to remind her of it, “thinks so, too. And I’m marrying Olan.”
“Yes, I know. Theo yes. He’s a nice boy too.”
“Very nice. And they’re engaged.”
“Engaged. Oh right, that’s why I called. Lord, if my head weren’t screwed on so tight, it’d be out there playing hide and seek with my socks!”
As I tilt my head, my gaze lands on the observatory, its grand silhouette piercing the sky, as the bus makes a turn toward Pelletier.
My mother doesn’t continue, and knowing we’re only a few minutes from school, I prod her along.
“And… The wedding? Sheldon?”
“Right, oy. He told me all about your meeting. And Theo with his bagels. Three types of cream cheese. Plain and veggie, yes, but I’ve never heard of horseradish cream cheese, and now, of course, I want some. Sheldon promised the next time I visit, they’ll have me over and Theo will make a spread. Did you have lox? I know when you were little you didn’t care for it, and I noticed you didn’t have any when I was there, but really you should try it again. Loving lox is in your DNA. Don’t deny your ancestors this mitzvah. And I bet Olan would love it. The smokiness. He’s got sophisticated taste, I can tell.”
If there was any doubt about the genetic link to ADHD, my mother and I are living proof of it.
“Mom. I’m almost at school.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“Did you have the lox?” she asks.
“Yes, I love lox now.”
