She sighs in defeat. “Obviously, I stalked you.”
“Did you?” The knowledge burns away the last of my awkwardness. Stevie might be the painfully beautiful forest mascot, but she stalked me. That’s something. It’s more than something. And she’s still holding my hand.
She nods. “Only a little. And my findings were woefully inadequate. It’s like you’re”—her secretive smile makes my heart knock a few times—”mythical. It’s like you don’t exist. How is that possible in this, the year of our Lord two thousand and twenty-six?”
I release a long exhale. It does nothing to ease the pounding in my chest. “My sister says the same thing.”
Light fills her eyes. “I want to hear more about this sister. Tell me about her.”
“What do you want to know?”
She squeezes my hand. “All of it.”
And that’s how it happened. That’s how I ended up holding Stevie’s hand and telling her more about myself and my family than I've ever told anyone.
For two hours.
In my defense, I haven’t done all of the talking.
Here’s what I’ve learned about Stevie: She has a bunch of brothers, and her eyes fill with a mixture of light, pride, and a tinge of sadness when she talks about them. Her parents sound like mine—doting, well adjusted, and hard working. Stevie is the choir director at the local high school. She would not sing for me when I asked for a sample. I asked Stevie about how she got so interested in Bigfoot, and that’s when she excused herself to get a late-night snack for us. She came back two minutes ago with two bowls of Lucky Charms, which I shouldn’t have laughed about.
“Laugh all you want.” She pushes a dripping spoon into her mouth. “These things are delicious, plus they have whole-grain oats, so they’re healthy,” she says around a mouth full of cereal.
I quirk an eyebrow, swallowing my sugary bite. I’ve also learned that Stevie uses the wordhealthyloosely. I’m fighting a smile. “You’re just so ... Irish.” I say the word with caution.
I want to use another word. Stevie is enchanting. That’s the word that came into my head, but it’s a word I’ve never said out loud. It’s true, though. Between her sweet face, the ginger hair hanging around her shoulders, and that smile—I am enchanted.
But as I anticipated, she rolls her eyes. “Lucky Charms arenotIrish.”
Don’t poke the bear,a voice in my head warns. I ignore it. “There’s a leprechaun on the box,” I point out.
“Don’t make me—”
Lucky for me, her threat is interrupted by her phone buzzing on the coffee table. I don’t mean to look, but it’s Marlow.
Stevie frowns at the screen. “I better get that. She doesn’t usually call so late ...” She trails off, swiping the screen as she puts her bowl on the coffee table. “Marlow?”
I’m minding my business, muscling through my bowl of pure sugar. As has always been the case, Stevie is impossible to ignore, though.
She half sighs, half moans. “Ugh. What’s his name?”
And now she has my undivided attention. I move my cereal around with my spoon.
“And is his mother driving him to our date?” Stevie asks.
I snort. Stevie’s head whips my direction, and I turn the laugh into a cough, like I choked on a marshmallow unicorn.
“And this random dude you met at the bank—you vetted him this time?”
I need to vet him. I want to meet this guy. I have to hear Marlow’s end of this phone call.
Stevie lowers her voice and pivots away from me almost imperceptibly. “I’m trying, okay? I’m going. But after that last date, obviously I’m going to be more skeptical. Chuck was—” She pinches the bridge of her nose when Marlow cuts her off. “I know, but—”
Marlow is letting her have it. I force another bite of cereal in my mouth to distract myself and cut the awkwardness. I can’t believe she eats this stuff.
Stevie isn’t whispering anymore. “I am not too picky with men. I just don’t want to settle when I’m perfectly happy on my own.”
Bravo!I want to shout, keeping Stevie in the corner of my eye. Why should she settle for someone who isn’t good enough for her?