“Who uses traditional methods anymore?” Olivia picked up her cell phone, which was never far from reach. “It’s all apps and dating sites.”
Sylvie nodded her approval. “Frannie could give you a tutorial.”
“Here’s a tip.” My aunt helped herself to a third piece of cake. “If you post Halle Berry’s photo in your bio, your date won’t find it funny when you actually meet.” She shrugged. “Men are apparently overly sensitive like that.”
“Great tip, Aunt Frannie, but I can find my own dates, thank you very much.”
“No offense, Hattie…” Olivia began, and I was certain offense was sure to follow. “You should let us take lead on this. Your bar is kind of low.”
“It’s not low,” I argued. “It’s just—”
“What she means,” Sylvie soothed, “is you see the good in everyone. You tend to overlook a lot that might get in the way of a relationship’s long-term success. Also you never let me run government-level background checks.”
Frannie chortled. “Like that ever stops you.”
“Remember that guy she dated in college?” Olivia asked. “The one who couch surfed the whole eight years he was in school?”
“Caden didn’t need housing to define him,” I said.
“He was a bum. He fleeced Hattie out of three months’ rent money, only to lose it in a football game betting pool.” Olivia leaned in, as if winding up for a juicy story. “Remember the guy she went out with the spring of her senior year of high school?”
“Eduardo,” Rosie supplied.
“Who’s Eduardo?” Miller handed Poppy a napkin, but his attention was trained on Rosie.
“A foreign exchange student Hattie tutored out of the goodness of her heart.” Rosie was all too happy to supply more information. “Things disappeared in his presence, he smoked weird cigarettes, and he swore he was Tom Cruise’s secret love child.”
“Eduardo was a creative,” I countered. “He’s probably wildly successful back in Spain.”
Olivia rolled her eyes. “He’s probably in prison. But let’s not forget Seth, the first fiancé—”
“This conversation is boring me.” I graced both sisters with twin looks of scorn. “I regret sharing my welcome home cake with every one of you.”
“The Sutton dinners are a lot more fun than ours,” Ava told her uncle.
Miller watched me with a curious interest. “Indeed they are.”
Taking a deep breath, I regarded each of my family with my last dregs of calm. “Maybe I could’ve been a little more selective in my relationships. And maybe I’ve been taken advantage of once or twice.” I ignored the ten fingers Olivia was holding over her head. “But each of those guys had good qualities as well. And excuse me for choosing to focus on the light in each of them. I don’t want to be closed-minded and critical. It’s just not who I am.”
My grandmother got up from her seat, only make her way to my chair, and wrap her arms around me. “We love who you are, Hattie.” She kissed my flushed cheek, this woman who loved me like her very own. “We just want the best for our girl.”
“Which is why we want to help you,” Olivia said.
I did adore these people, annoying as they were. “I guess I could considersomehelp, but that’s it—just someone to go with me to Jasmine’s wedding. Preferably a man who’s handsome, semi-articulate, and at least somewhat gainfully employed so Ned will be eaten up with jealousy.”
“That’s the spirit,” Rosie said. “Olivia’s already got three apps loaded on her phone.”
Oh, geez. “That sounds frightening.”
Sylvie gave my shoulders a squeeze. “We can vet these guys, sugar.”
“Oh!” Olivia’s eyes widened with a new idea. “You know who has impeccable instinct for people?”
I patted my grandma’s dainty hands. “The man at the grocery who sells Sylvie her Depends?”
“Heresy!”
Olivia ignored Sylvie’s outrage. “Miller does. He can size someone up in seconds. Never wrong.”
