It wasn’t. It was Tom. From Quizzard. That Tom.
What. The. Actual. Heck?
“Is that a friend of yours?” asked Ruby-Fern, from a foot or two behind her. Nina turned and discovered the whole book group had followed her to the door, drawn helplessly by their adaptive need to stick their beaks into anything new.
“Not really,” replied Nina. She reached the door and smile-frowned at Tom, wondering why he was there.
Tom, who was wondering exactly the same thing, waited until the door was open and then held up the movie ticket. “This is yours. I was in the area, so I thought I’d bring it back.”
“Uh,” said Nina, “we’re closed.” Yes, Nina, let’s open a conversation with a non sequitur. Stylish.
Asha said, “Are you Nina’s boyfriend?” She was a tall, clear-eyed child who stuck to the point.
Tom, who was a little confused by the six girls who were now all staring avidly at him, shook his head.
“Are you a boy who is also a friend?” Ruby-Fern wasn’t going to let him slip by on a technicality.
“Uh . . .” said Tom.
“Maybe he wants to be her boyfriend,” suggested Logan. “And Nina doesn’t want him to be?”
“Or maybe she wants him to be, but hasn’t told him yet.” All the little heads swiveled to look up at Nina, who was approximately the color of a strawberry.
“Ladies,” she said in her firmest voice, “please return to the book club area and wait quietly. I won’t be a minute.”
“No, it’s OK,” said Nora. “We’re fine here.”
Nina looked at them with her best laser beam eyes, and they all backed away.
Tom was starting to lose focus. “Anyway . . . I thought you might want to go see another movie sometime.” He held out the ticket, and Nina took it, trying to decide if he had asked her to “go see another movie sometime with me” or had simply been making an observation: “I saw you at the movie theater, alone, so here’s a ticket you can use in the future, on your own.”
“Thanks. But this is really your friend’s ticket. She bought it.”
He shook his head. “No, she gave it to you, so I turned it in for a rain check.” He smiled suddenly, and Nina felt her hands start to prickle with a combination of anxiety and attraction. He appealed to her so much. He was very tall and strong, all bones and mass; he made her feel like she wouldn’t be up to the task of even holding his hand, let alone anything else. And why was she thinking of anything else?
He spoke again, slightly more hesitantly. “You left somewhat abruptly.”
She blushed. “Yeah, sorry about that. I, uh . . . had to leave.”
“Somewhat abruptly?”
“Yeah.” There was no way she was going to explain any further; it was bad enough already. “Anyway . . . thanks.” She smiled back at him and went to close the door. “I have to get back to my book club.” Before I start hyperventilating and have to breathe into a bag.
“Oh, they’re not all your children?” He tried a smile. He could smell her shampoo, honey and lemons. He was having trouble with this simple social transaction; her shiny hair, her tiny hands and feet, her very smallness made him feel clumsy and awkward, like he should be carrying a bale of hay with a straw between his teeth and saying things like “Shucks, ma’am, I have to move the she-cow back to pasture.” She was smiling at him. Keep your head in the game, Tom.
“I’d have to work pretty hard to have six kids the same age.” Her eyes were hazel, he saw; a warm brown with a darker ring around her iris. Distracting.
He said, “Modern science?” Really, Tom, you’re talking about fertility treatment? What’s next, asking her what brand of tampon she prefers?
“Well, sure.” They stood there smiling at each other, both frantically trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t make them look as stupid and confused as they felt.
“See?” said Asha, from behind the bookcase. “They’re definitely flirting. My older sister looks like that when she’s texting sometimes.” She sounded gleeful. “Usually just before my mom takes her phone away.”
Tom and Nina looked over; six little heads were peeping over the bookcase, like a row of ripening avocados on a windowsill. They ducked down again, and giggling was heard.
She looked back at Tom and shrugged. “Sorry, they can’t help it. I have to go.”
He nodded. “Yes, well, anyway . . .”
She said, “Yeah . . .”
He said, “See you at trivia?”
She said, “Sure.”
He said, “Bye then.”
She said, “Bye, thanks for the ticket.”
He said, “It was yours. I was returning it.”
She said, “I know, but still.”
He said, “Got it. Bye.”
She said, “Bye.”
He said, “See you.”
She said, “Yeah.”
She closed the door and turned to face the kids. They had popped back up and were looking at her over the top of the bookcase again. Nora was the first to comment.
“Sister,” she said, “you need to work on your banter.”
When Annabel’s mother, Lili, came to pick her up, she seemed stressed. Nina had always liked this mom; attractive without working at it, casually dressed, funny and mellow. But this evening she was rushing. Her hair was escaping from her bun in a way that had moved from messy to imminently undone. Nina itched to tuck it all in but managed to keep her hands to herself. Not everyone enjoys symmetry and control like you do, she reminded herself.
“Bel, come on, baby, we’ve got to hustle.” Lili was hunting in her giant handbag for something.
“Why?” asked Annabel. She wasn’t giving her mother attitude; she was just wondering.
“Because I need to get home and finish those forty individualized packets of seeds to use as place markers at Tanty’s wedding.” Lili finally pulled out her car keys and looked at her watch. “And I literally need your help and you have to go to bed like an hour ago, which means I have to use child labor while also breaking child labor regulations about sufficient sleep.”
Annabel frowned at her. “There are no child labor regulations about sleep in California.”
“Oh, I’m sure there are,” chimed in Nina, who was picking up the beanbags. “You can’t work at all until you’re fourteen.”
“But what about the sleep part?”
Nina looked at Lili over Annabel’s head. “I think those regulations vary from state to state.”
Annabel turned from Nina to her mom and narrowed her eyes. “What exactly does helping involve?”
“Coloring in, tying ribbons, stickering, checking things off a list . . .”
“Ooh, that sounds awesome,” said Nina, unable to help herself. Seriously, Lili had just rattled off four of her favorite activities.
Annabel grinned. “Well then, there you go. Nina can help you and California won’t get mad.”
Lili appeared embarrassed. “Bel, I’m sure Nina has plenty to do this evening.”
“Actually, no,” said Nina. “You live in the neighborhood, right? I don’t mind helping. I love all that crafty and organizey stuff.”