MARK
My first thought when my sister calls to tell me she met a totally great new guy is he better not break her heart like the last guy did.
But I don’t share that with her. Yet.
I do the wise older brother thing instead. I ask all the right questions.
“And how did you meet him?” I ask Hannah as I put away the suits I picked up from the cleaners earlier this evening. “Was it at that pickling class you went to? Or was it mayonnaise canning?”
“Don’t be silly. Mayonnaise is gross. It was at a candle-making workshop,” she says.
“So I was close,” I say as I shut the closet in my bedroom and head to the living room, straightening up a farm puzzle my daughter left on the coffee table.
“I almost didn’t go to it. Which means it was kind of a moment when I met Flip.”
Hannah lives for moments. Let’s hope this is a good thing. “And are you going to see this guy again?”
She laughs, like she’s never heard anything so silly as my question. “Yes.”
“Why is that funny?”
“Well,” she says, whispering the next words like a confession. “I’ve already spent four days with him.”
The piece with the tail of a wooden cow falls from my hand with a clatter. “What? But . . . it’s only Monday.”
More laughter comes from her. “Yes, you’ve always been good at counting, Mark. That means I spent Thursday night, Friday night, Saturday night, and Sunday night with him.”
“Every night?” I ask, hackles raised.
There is nothing worse for a relationship than rushing into it. That’s a red flag.
“He’s amazing,” she says with a sigh. I know I should feel happy for her, but my radar is beeping. “We both had Friday off so we just spent the whole time together. Mark, I am completely serious when I tell you this—I think he’s the one.”
I force myself to take a deep breath. “Hannah, that seems really soon,” I say as I pick up the cow and set the barnyard animal cutout on the coffee table next to the pig.
“When you know, you know,” she says, all breezy, like nothing can ruin her day.
This man could, though. He could ruin many of her days. Or her years. I don’t want to see her get hurt or make the same mistakes I've made.
“He treats you well?” I ask carefully. “Or am I going to have to rescue you like that time a few years ago when you were on a date and texted me in the middle of dinner to call and pretend your apartment flooded?”
She laughs. “There will be no fake floods with Flip.”
But a fake flood would be preferable to what went down with the guy who broke her heart a year ago. “Or what happened with Colin,” I add.
“Mark! Stop mentioning the ghosts of boyfriends past. Flip is amazing. I promise you don’t have to go all ‘protective big brother’ on me. He’s great and I want you to meet him. I’m sure you'll give your full seal of approval.”
I’m not so sure about that. But we’ll see. “What are you thinking? Coffee or dinner in a couple weeks?” I ask as I flop down on the couch, tired after another long day. Wall Street plus parenting will do that to a guy.
“As if I can wait that long. You get to meet him this weekend.”
I sit up straight. “What’s happening this weekend?”