“Emergency.” He didn’t say anything else.
I glanced at Sharon. Had she already told him everything he needed to know about me or was conversation just not his strong suit? She nodded encouragingly and I sighed. “What hospital?”
“Sibley.”
I opened my mouth, “And what a delightful bedside manner you must have” on the tip of my tongue. Had this been a real date, I would have said it. I was comfortable enough with who I was to recognize that a guy was either going to like me, snarky warts and all, or he wasn’t. But I had seen zero evidence of a sense of humor or even a personality so far and I didn’t want to make waves with Sharon’s soon-to-be in-laws. So I bit my tongue and instead replied cheerily, “Oh, wow, I was just there last weekend.”
He seemed mildly more interested as he looked me up and down, scanning for injuries or illnesses. “For what?”
“Oh. Not for me. My friend’s dad had a heart attack and I went with him.”
A nod and he checked his phone. I was dull again. Our drinks arrived and I took a long sip, then gave up and turned to Sharon. “So what’s the latest with your mom?”
I didn’t want Sharon to feel bad, so I hadn’t told her about the phone call I received from her mother the week before, in which she ripped me apart for sending Sharon’s aunts’ shower invitations to the wrong aunts’ houses. I asked why they couldn’t just accept that it was a mistake and open each other’s, which was apparently a completely irrational and unacceptable answer on my part. As soon as I got off the phone, I set her ringtone to be Darth Vader’s theme music, then wrote a scathing blog post to make myself feel better.
Sharon rolled her eyes. “She’s extremely focused on flowers at the moment.”
“How lucky for that florist.”
She pursed her lips, amused. “That poor man. He has no idea what he’s in for.”
“Should I warn him?”
“Eh. He’s getting paid. He’ll be fine. And my mom can’t be the worst he’s dealt with.”
I sipped my drink to avoid laughing. Oh yes she can, I thought. “Did you pick a color scheme yet?”
“Tiffany blue and white,” she said, and I smiled broadly. Breakfast at Tiffany’s was Sharon’s favorite movie, book, poster, and Halloween costume when we were in college. And while her mother’s preference for black dresses would probably have been more fitting if she wanted to make that a theme, I loved that Sharon was happy with her choice.
“You could probably do some cool Tiffany’s-style favors. I saw some on Pinterest.”
“Since when do you use Pinterest?”
“I’m quite the expert on all things wedding these days.”
Sharon looked to Seth and Josh, who were now both scrolling on their phones. She cleared her throat. “Lily is in five weddings this summer, including ours.”
Josh read her tone and put his phone away. Seth looked up from his and saw Sharon raising her eyebrows at him. “Is that a lot?”
Sharon laughed, pleased she had gotten him to engage. “Men. Yes, that’s an insane amount. But it means Lily will be a pro when it’s time for her to get married.”
He looked back down at his phone and I cringed. Great. He’s going to think I’m trying to marry him. “Which hopefully won’t be for a very long time,” I added quickly. “I’ve had enough weddings for a while.”
“But not too long,” Sharon said. “I mean, you want kids and all.”
I stood up. “I’m going to go find the ladies’ room. Sharon, come with me.”
“I don’t—” I gave her a sharp look and she stood up. “We’ll be right back.”
I let her lead the way, as she had been to the restaurant before, but as soon as we were out of earshot, I grabbed her arm. “Dude, what are you trying to do to me here?”
“What do you mean?”
“Look, he’s attractive, I’ll give you that, but this guy is clearly not into it and you’re talking about me getting married? You’re making it sound like I’ve got a wedding dress on under my clothes and a tux in my purse that I’m ready to shove him into!”
Her face dropped. “I’m sorry. I hated his ex and he’s actually pretty funny when he’s not being all mopey. I just thought how great it would be for everyone if you two hit it off.”
I felt terrible. Her intentions were good, even if the guy was a dud. “When did they break up?”