I surprised myself by being sentimental enough to set aside one of his flannel button-up shirts, a blue plaid one I’d boughthim one Christmas. I wasn’t naive enough to assign any significance to the fact that he still had it hanging in his closet—it had been the ultimate practical gift, after all, and my father was never one to throw much away. But hanging on to it seemed like the right thing to do, and I waited until Conner was on the phone with Shani to fold it up and shove it to the bottom of one of my suitcases in my room.
“Sorry your proposal last night didn’t work out,” I said once I came back, seeing that he was off the phone. “Did you talk to the guy yet about getting a refund?”
“I didn’t have to,” Conner said. “He actually sent it right to me through the app with a message that if I hadn’t proposed by New Year’s, we could try again.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” I said. “New Year’s could be cool.”
Conner shrugged. “At this point, I’m starting to think I should just drop to one knee when she gets home from work one day and do it right there in the apartment.”
The low-key approach I’d been advocating since the beginning, but something about seeing my brother so dejected made me swallow my usual anti-romantic sentiment. “Maybe give yourself a few weeks to think of something. And if you can’t think of a good idea—or the moment just feels right—then I say go for it.”
There was a knock at the front door, and I had a brief jolt of my usualJudgment Ridgebefore I realized that it was probably Sam. Sure enough, there he was, holding a cardboard carrier with three coffees.
“Hey,” he said, leaning in to give me a quick kiss that made my toes curl. I still wasn’t used to casual affection like that. It feltmore dangerous than the sex, in a way. “I saw Conner’s car here and I figured... sorry, I didn’t know how you guys took your coffee, so I just grabbed a bunch of creamers and different kinds of sugar.”
It was a truly impressive array when he laid it out on the table. “You cleaned them out,” I said. “If I see this on the local crime blotter later, I’m turning you in.”
“But now you’re an accessory after the fact,” Sam said, pointing to where I’d just dumped two raw sugar packets in my coffee. “I think I can count on your silence.”
Conner, I was relieved to see, had just pushed his coffee toward me so I could have two. He was a self-proclaimed “simple man,” which meant his tastes ran to Mountain Dew, Red Bull if it had been a true all-nighter. It had been thoughtful of Sam to get him some coffee, nonetheless, and I gave Sam’s arm a squeeze of thanks, trying out some casual affection of my own.
It wasn’t so bad. It was kind of nice, actually—Sam’s arm warm and hard under my hand, his immediate smile letting me know he appreciated the contact. I might’ve never let go, except Lenore chose that moment to come out of hiding and make her grand appearance for the day.
Sam crouched down to greet her, putting his hand out for her to sniff, and the little traitor actually did it. I supposed technically, shehadknown him longer, since they’d been neighbors longer than Sam and I had been. Still, I couldn’t help but mutter under my breath.
“What?” Sam said.
“Nothing.”
“She saidJudas,” Conner said helpfully. “Not sure if she meant you or the cat.”
I glared at him. “Well, now I meanyou.See if I assist with your next harebrained proposal scheme if you’re going to throw me under the bus like that.”
“That reminds me,” Sam said, now fully petting Lenore, who was, if not actively purring, at leasttoleratingthe contact. Was it wrong that the image of him petting the cat was low-key turning me on? “Phoebe mentioned a flash mob the other night. If that was something you wanted to do, I think I might have an idea.”
“Dude, yes,” Conner said. “Hit me with it.”
Sam proceeded to explain how he’d taught his third-graders a coordinated dance last year, apparently mostly consisting of some emotes in an online game that a lot of the kids played, which made Conner’s eyes light up because he was basically a giant kid himself. They went back and forth on a few of the moves included, which sounded like pure gibberish to me but which seemed to get Conner more and more into the idea.
“I could send an email out through the PTA,” Sam said, “see if any of the parents would be down to meet up with us at a local park or something. There’s only one small issue, and I’m not sure how you’ll feel about it.”
“It all sounds great,” Conner said. “Shani will flip.”
Lenore finally slunk away without giving me so much as a backward glance, as if she was tired of this conversation. I heard her lapping up some water in the kitchen, so at least I was doing one thing right in my cat caretaking so far.
Sam stood back up, reaching for his coffee to take a sip.“Okay,” he said. “But the kids learned the dance to a specific song, and I don’t think I could teach it to them with another song in time. Especially because it’s summer, and everyone has plans—this would need to be a one-and-done deal, you know?”
“That should be fine,” Conner said. “Even if it’s a song with someyou don’t know you’re beautifulmessaging, I can always explain to Shani that it’s okay if she esteems herself, and it doesn’t take away her overall beauty.”
He shot me a finger-gun gesture with a littleclickout of the side of his mouth, and I rolled my eyes. At least he’d been listening, I guessed.
“So what’s the song?” I asked. I had no idea what you’d teach third-graders to dance to. “Let It Go (Club Remix)”? Some Kidz Bop version of a song that reframed any desire for sex as a desire to play marbles together or something?
“ ‘Tubthumping,’ ” Sam said. “By Chumbawamba.”
I actually choked on my coffee. And it wasn’t a cute sitcom spit take, either, but a full-out down-the-wrong-tube coughing fit. Sam rubbed my back while I got myself together enough to give them both a thumbs-up so they’d know I wasn’t dying.
“Sorry,” I said. “But whatyearis it?”