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Authors: Amy E. Lilly
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party. “We may want to see if any of Grandma’s
friends from bridge are able to come.”
“Add their names to the list,” Anne commanded as
she put a pad of paper and a pen in front of Quinn. “I’ve already started
contacting people. Once we get everyone’s name down, we can pare it down if we
need to.”
Quinn perused the list of guests. “Mother, why do
you have Tad on the guest list? Really? I doubt he’ll want to come within five
hundred miles of me after our dating fiasco a few weeks ago.”
“Your father and his father have been hunting and
fishing buddies for years. It would be rude not to invite them. I’m sure he’ll
decline, but the invitation has to be sent.”
“Ugh. Well, if he shows up, I’m kidnapping Grandma
and taking her club hopping for her birthday. I’m forewarning you now.”
“I invited Marjorie Kellogg. Her son is in medical
school and would be a catch.”
“Casey Kellogg had the worst case of acne I’d ever
seen in my life and he breathes through his mouth.”
“Which is why he’s going to be a dermatologist.
He’s a nice man. You could do worse.”
“I doubt it. Anyway, I might bring a date of my
own to the party. I ran into an old college friend today. He asked for my phone
number and wants to take me out on a date.”
“What does he do for a living? Something in the
arts I’m assuming.”
“No, Mother. He’s not a musician or a starving
artist. Doug’s a middle school teacher. He’s a nice guy.”
“Hmm…well, I’m reserving judgment until I meet
him.”
“Your mother means until she interrogates him.”
Quinn’s mother glared at her husband. Rather than
respond, she began adding names to the guest list. Fifteen minutes later, Quinn
and her mother had a list of sixty guests. “Ask my brother who we’ve missed and
call me tomorrow.”
“I will. I better get back home. I promised to
stop by my new neighbor’s apartment and feed his fish while he’s out of town.
Fat Panther is probably starving anyway.” Quinn grabbed her bag and after
hugging her parents goodbye, she and Old Susannah chugged her way back to her
apartment in Richmond.
She let herself into Zach’s apartment with the key
he’d given her. She fumbled her hand against the wall and found the light
switch. Flipping it on, she stood momentarily transfixed. Although Zach’s
apartment mirrored hers, it couldn’t be more different. Rather than the stark
white walls like her own apartment, Zach had painted his living room vivid
shades of blue. His walls were covered with paintings and photographs depicting
scenes from nature and old buildings from around the world. She slowly moved
her way around the living room. Her eyes traveled across the artwork as she
tried to take it all in. She found herself transfixed by the images of Gothic
cathedrals and towering spires on castles and mansions. She looked around the
rest of the living room and spotted a drawing table covered with large pads of
paper. Next to the table was an empty easel. An artist. Her new neighbor was an
artist. Darn it. She was all set to like him. He was funny and good looking,
but she was over the artistic, flaky guys. She looked around for the fish tank
and saw it near the small television tucked into one corner of the living room.
She moved across the room and opening the jar of fish food, she sprinkled a
handful of flakes into the tank. Little silver flashes darted to the surface
and sucked in the reddish-brown food.
“Here, fishy, fishy, fishy,” Quinn cooed to the
tank full of small fish. She wasn’t really a fish person. Too much trouble to
clean the tank every week. Fat Panther would probably eat the fish anyway.
She glanced at the stack of movies next to the
television. Zach’s taste in movies were similar to hers. Comedies with a
sprinkling of drama and suspense. The shelf behind the fish tank contained a
number of books. Quinn scanned the spines and found interspersed with books on
medieval architecture,
friends from bridge are able to come.”
“Add their names to the list,” Anne commanded as
she put a pad of paper and a pen in front of Quinn. “I’ve already started
contacting people. Once we get everyone’s name down, we can pare it down if we
need to.”
Quinn perused the list of guests. “Mother, why do
you have Tad on the guest list? Really? I doubt he’ll want to come within five
hundred miles of me after our dating fiasco a few weeks ago.”
“Your father and his father have been hunting and
fishing buddies for years. It would be rude not to invite them. I’m sure he’ll
decline, but the invitation has to be sent.”
“Ugh. Well, if he shows up, I’m kidnapping Grandma
and taking her club hopping for her birthday. I’m forewarning you now.”
“I invited Marjorie Kellogg. Her son is in medical
school and would be a catch.”
“Casey Kellogg had the worst case of acne I’d ever
seen in my life and he breathes through his mouth.”
“Which is why he’s going to be a dermatologist.
He’s a nice man. You could do worse.”
“I doubt it. Anyway, I might bring a date of my
own to the party. I ran into an old college friend today. He asked for my phone
number and wants to take me out on a date.”
“What does he do for a living? Something in the
arts I’m assuming.”
“No, Mother. He’s not a musician or a starving
artist. Doug’s a middle school teacher. He’s a nice guy.”
“Hmm…well, I’m reserving judgment until I meet
him.”
“Your mother means until she interrogates him.”
Quinn’s mother glared at her husband. Rather than
respond, she began adding names to the guest list. Fifteen minutes later, Quinn
and her mother had a list of sixty guests. “Ask my brother who we’ve missed and
call me tomorrow.”
“I will. I better get back home. I promised to
stop by my new neighbor’s apartment and feed his fish while he’s out of town.
Fat Panther is probably starving anyway.” Quinn grabbed her bag and after
hugging her parents goodbye, she and Old Susannah chugged her way back to her
apartment in Richmond.
She let herself into Zach’s apartment with the key
he’d given her. She fumbled her hand against the wall and found the light
switch. Flipping it on, she stood momentarily transfixed. Although Zach’s
apartment mirrored hers, it couldn’t be more different. Rather than the stark
white walls like her own apartment, Zach had painted his living room vivid
shades of blue. His walls were covered with paintings and photographs depicting
scenes from nature and old buildings from around the world. She slowly moved
her way around the living room. Her eyes traveled across the artwork as she
tried to take it all in. She found herself transfixed by the images of Gothic
cathedrals and towering spires on castles and mansions. She looked around the
rest of the living room and spotted a drawing table covered with large pads of
paper. Next to the table was an empty easel. An artist. Her new neighbor was an
artist. Darn it. She was all set to like him. He was funny and good looking,
but she was over the artistic, flaky guys. She looked around for the fish tank
and saw it near the small television tucked into one corner of the living room.
She moved across the room and opening the jar of fish food, she sprinkled a
handful of flakes into the tank. Little silver flashes darted to the surface
and sucked in the reddish-brown food.
“Here, fishy, fishy, fishy,” Quinn cooed to the
tank full of small fish. She wasn’t really a fish person. Too much trouble to
clean the tank every week. Fat Panther would probably eat the fish anyway.
She glanced at the stack of movies next to the
television. Zach’s taste in movies were similar to hers. Comedies with a
sprinkling of drama and suspense. The shelf behind the fish tank contained a
number of books. Quinn scanned the spines and found interspersed with books on
medieval architecture,
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