“About not having friends,” he says. “You have me.”
I don’t know what to say, so I don’t say anything. My heart is suddenly racing, though, and I can feel heat rising to my cheeks.
“I know you think I’m just the guy who fixes pipes and stuff,” he adds after a moment.
I can feel my face heat up. “I’m a mess,” I say finally. “Why would you want to be my friend?”
“For the same reason anyone wants to be anyone’s friend,” Gavin says. “Because I like you.”
I stare after him as he disappears out the front door.
Annie is miraculously pleasant when she arrives in the afternoon; she’s in such a seemingly good mood that I don’t bring up the Internet search I did or my conflicted thoughts about Paris, because I can’t bear the thought of another argument. She’s heading back to her father’s for the evening, and as we wash dishes side by side in the kitchen after closing, she breaks our companionable silence with a question.
“So are you, like, dating Matt Hines or something?” she asks.
I shake my head vigorously. “No. Absolutely not.”
Annie looks skeptical. “I don’t think he knows that.”
“Why do you say that?”
“The way he looks at you,” she says. “And talks to you. All possessive-like. Like you’re his girlfriend.”
I roll my eyes. “Well, I’m sure he’ll figure out that I’m not.”
“How come you never, like, date?” Annie asks after a pause, and from the way she’s staring into the sink instead of meeting my eye, I get the sense that she’s uncomfortable with the conversation. I wonder why she’s bringing it up.
“Your dad and I haven’t been divorced for that long,” I reply after a moment.
Annie gives me a strange look. “So what, you want to get back together with Dad or something?”
“No!” I say instantly, because that’s not it at all. “No. I think it’s just that I didn’t expect to be single again. Besides, you’re my priority now, Annie.” I pause and ask, “Why?”
“No reason,” Annie says quickly. She’s silent for a moment. I know her well enough to know that if I don’t press her, she’ll say what’s on her mind—or at least a version of it. “It’s just weird is all.”
“What’s weird?”
“That you don’t have a boyfriend or anything.”
“I don’t think it’s weird, Annie,” I say. “Not everyone has to be in a couple.” I don’t want Annie growing up to be one of those girls who feels incomplete without a relationship. It hasn’t occurred to me before this moment that those kinds of thoughts might be swirling in her head.
“Dad’s in a couple,” she mumbles. Again, she’s staring straight into the sink, and I’m not sure what hurts me more initially—the sudden realization that Rob has moved on from me so quickly, or the fact that it’s clearly bothering Annie. Either way, I feel like someone has punched me in the gut.
“Is he?” I ask as evenly as possible. “And what do you think about that?”
“It’s fine.”
I don’t say anything, waiting for her to go on.
She breaks the silence again. “She’s around all the time, you know. His girlfriend. Or whatever.”
“You haven’t mentioned her before.”
Annie shrugs and mumbles, “I thought it would make you feel bad.”
I blink a few times. “You don’t have to worry about that, Annie. You can tell me anything.”
She nods, and I can see her looking at me sideways. I pretend to be absorbed in the dishwashing. “So what’s her name?” I ask casually.
“Sunshine,” she mumbles.
“Sunshine?” I stop what I’m doing and stare at her. “Your dad’s dating a woman named Sunshine?”
Annie cracks a smile for the first time. “It’s a pretty dumb name,” she agrees.
I snort and go back to washing off a baking tray. “So, do you like her?” I ask carefully after a pause.
Annie shrugs. She turns off her faucet, grabs a towel, and begins drying a stainless steel mixing bowl. “I guess,” she says.
“Is she nice to you?” I try again, because I feel like I’m missing something here.
“I guess,” she repeats. “Anyways. I’m glad you’re not dating anyone, Mom.”