hold the baby.
Maeve reiterated her request that Heather not be let out of the house the Saturday upcoming. Gabriela gave her a sly smile. “Getting a little too hot to handle?” she asked.
“I guess you could say that,” Maeve said.
“That will be up to this guy here,” Gabriela said, patting Cal on the shoulder. “I’ve got my hands full with the little one,” she said, pinching the baby’s cheek in a way that suggested she had just met the boy and found babies, in general, a level just above detestable.
Rebecca finished her workout with the team and scanned the crowd as she always did for her mother, who returned her daughter’s wave with an enthusiastic one of her own. When the game started and everyone became involved in the heated rivalry that was Farringville versus Lake Monroe, it was as if Maeve had become invisible to the couple in front of her.
As she washed the dishes in her kitchen sink that night, she realized that Gabriela hadn’t expressed sympathy at her family’s loss of Maeve’s cousin. She wondered if Cal had even told her, the subject of Maeve and her family something he probably didn’t bother himself with beyond his concern for Jack.
She hoped they were happy—really, she did—but then wondered if that was even possible, given the players.
CHAPTER 7
Maeve never said she would actually speed date, a fact that she reminded Jo of when they arrived at the hotel conference room the following evening. She pointed at the lobby bar as they strode past, telling Jo that she would wait for her until she was done.
Jo was not happy. “I thought we could do this together.”
“Aren’t we? I’m here, aren’t I?” Maeve might have given Jo the impression that she would actually participate in ten dates in fifty minutes, but when it became clear what speed dating actually entailed, Maeve said that she had never gotten on board to talk to strange men, in person, in a hotel ballroom. “And why did we have to come to the Bronx again?”
“Looking for tribe members,” Jo said. “I figured it would be easier to meet a single Jewish man in this part of the city than where we live.”
“There are Jews in Westchester,” Maeve reminded her. “And Eric was Catholic. Since when did you get so religious?”
“Since I married a cheating goy who never once told me I was beautiful,” she said, attempting a joke that fell flat because it was true and not remotely funny. “I’m off Catholics for the time being. No offense,” she said to Maeve.
“None taken.”
“So let’s try a Jew!” Jo said. “Now get your head in the game.”
“It is,” Maeve said.
“Not really.”
She was right. Maeve wasn’t into doing this with Jo, and she wasn’t really there mentally. She thought of one more potential “out” and raised it to Jo. “I didn’t sign up!” she said, trying to sound apologetic and failing miserably. “I think you need to register for these events. I didn’t register.”
Jo was one step ahead of her. “I signed you up yesterday,” she said. “Problem solved.” She pushed Maeve gently toward the door to the ballroom, where a group of singles, men and women, had gathered in anticipation of a night of possibly meeting their soul mate. Before they entered, she said, “You owe me thirty bucks.”
Speed dating didn’t come cheap, another reason Maeve stood fast; clearly, speed dating was not for her. “You do it,” she said. “I’ll wait at the bar.” Jo pouted while she waited for Maeve to change her mind. Maeve could see she wouldn’t win this one and threw up her hands. “Fine.”
Jo smoothed down the front of her dress. “How do I look?”
“You look great,” Maeve said. In a tight black dress that showed off her slim build and sky-high stilettos, Jo did look great. Maeve hadn’t put as much thought into what she would wear and ended up in her best pair of jeans and an untucked oxford shirt, sensible flats on her feet. Next to Jo, she looked
Maeve reiterated her request that Heather not be let out of the house the Saturday upcoming. Gabriela gave her a sly smile. “Getting a little too hot to handle?” she asked.
“I guess you could say that,” Maeve said.
“That will be up to this guy here,” Gabriela said, patting Cal on the shoulder. “I’ve got my hands full with the little one,” she said, pinching the baby’s cheek in a way that suggested she had just met the boy and found babies, in general, a level just above detestable.
Rebecca finished her workout with the team and scanned the crowd as she always did for her mother, who returned her daughter’s wave with an enthusiastic one of her own. When the game started and everyone became involved in the heated rivalry that was Farringville versus Lake Monroe, it was as if Maeve had become invisible to the couple in front of her.
As she washed the dishes in her kitchen sink that night, she realized that Gabriela hadn’t expressed sympathy at her family’s loss of Maeve’s cousin. She wondered if Cal had even told her, the subject of Maeve and her family something he probably didn’t bother himself with beyond his concern for Jack.
She hoped they were happy—really, she did—but then wondered if that was even possible, given the players.
CHAPTER 7
Maeve never said she would actually speed date, a fact that she reminded Jo of when they arrived at the hotel conference room the following evening. She pointed at the lobby bar as they strode past, telling Jo that she would wait for her until she was done.
Jo was not happy. “I thought we could do this together.”
“Aren’t we? I’m here, aren’t I?” Maeve might have given Jo the impression that she would actually participate in ten dates in fifty minutes, but when it became clear what speed dating actually entailed, Maeve said that she had never gotten on board to talk to strange men, in person, in a hotel ballroom. “And why did we have to come to the Bronx again?”
“Looking for tribe members,” Jo said. “I figured it would be easier to meet a single Jewish man in this part of the city than where we live.”
“There are Jews in Westchester,” Maeve reminded her. “And Eric was Catholic. Since when did you get so religious?”
“Since I married a cheating goy who never once told me I was beautiful,” she said, attempting a joke that fell flat because it was true and not remotely funny. “I’m off Catholics for the time being. No offense,” she said to Maeve.
“None taken.”
“So let’s try a Jew!” Jo said. “Now get your head in the game.”
“It is,” Maeve said.
“Not really.”
She was right. Maeve wasn’t into doing this with Jo, and she wasn’t really there mentally. She thought of one more potential “out” and raised it to Jo. “I didn’t sign up!” she said, trying to sound apologetic and failing miserably. “I think you need to register for these events. I didn’t register.”
Jo was one step ahead of her. “I signed you up yesterday,” she said. “Problem solved.” She pushed Maeve gently toward the door to the ballroom, where a group of singles, men and women, had gathered in anticipation of a night of possibly meeting their soul mate. Before they entered, she said, “You owe me thirty bucks.”
Speed dating didn’t come cheap, another reason Maeve stood fast; clearly, speed dating was not for her. “You do it,” she said. “I’ll wait at the bar.” Jo pouted while she waited for Maeve to change her mind. Maeve could see she wouldn’t win this one and threw up her hands. “Fine.”
Jo smoothed down the front of her dress. “How do I look?”
“You look great,” Maeve said. In a tight black dress that showed off her slim build and sky-high stilettos, Jo did look great. Maeve hadn’t put as much thought into what she would wear and ended up in her best pair of jeans and an untucked oxford shirt, sensible flats on her feet. Next to Jo, she looked
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