“Well, are you going to ask me out or something? Or did you just want to have a long awkward phone call?”
He had to laugh. At least one of them had the ability to be straightforward. “How do you feel about West Sixth?”
“I love West Sixth.”
“B. Jack’s?”
“Love B. Jack’s.”
“Uh, seven?”
“Yup.”
“Maybe a drink somewhere else afterward?”
“Sounds perfect.”
He exhaled with relief. “Great. I’ll see you there … er, then … I mean, I’ll see you there, then.” He winced and rolled his eyes at himself.
“I’ll see you there, then, too.”
“Great,” he repeated and then paused again, wondering if he needed to say anything else. Apparently, she could read his mind.
“That’s all you have to do, Nick. See you later.”
And she hung up.
“Huh,” he said to himself. That wasn’t bad at all.
* * *
Nick pulled up to his parents’ house at around noon and let himself in.
“Hello?”
“In the kitchen, dear,” his mother called.
He rounded a corner and made his way into the kitchen to kiss his mother’s cheek. “Whatcha making today, Mom?”
“Ceviche. Can you grab the bowl of scallops out of the fridge?”
He retrieved the bowl and set it down for his mother as his father ambled in, cradling what appeared to be a pool pump.
“Hey, Dad.”
“Hey, sport.”
“Trouble with the pool?”
“Something’s wrong with the motor.”
His mother whipped her head around. “James Chapman, get that disgusting thing out of my kitchen this instant.”
James’s gaze darted upward and shifted slightly. “Sorry, sweetie.” He slipped through the sliding glass door and returned a moment later.
“Now wash your hands,” she directed.
Nick snickered quietly.
