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“That’s not number two.”
“What is number two?” Carl asked.
I put down my wineglass after taking a healthy gulp. “I know you guys think it’s stupid, but the plan keeps me focused. And number one is a work in progress. I got the wrong job at the right company. And that’s why I look tired. I’m fixing that.”
“You still didn’t tell me number two,” Carl pointed out as Delia laughed and shook her head.
“Number two is a relationship.”
“That’s pretty nonspecific,” he said. “There’s a site online that Deel likes. You could get into a pretty serious relationship with some of the vibrators she’s picked up. I swear she has one that likes to snuggle after.”
Delia’s long hand slapped down hard on Carl’s forearm, but she was laughing.
“Carl, if Delia is ordering complicated vibrators, do you think it’s a sign you might need to up your game?” I lifted an eyebrow, grinning at him.
Carl’s full lips flattened and his face dropped the humorous expression. “Girl, don’t question my manhood.”
I raised my hands in mock fear. “Never.”
“There’s no problem there, I can tell you,” Delia jumped in, rubbing her hand across Carl’s shoulder. “I just like to practice now and then. And you’re trying to dodge the question. Is there a man in the picture? Want Carl to introduce you to someone?” Shenodded eagerly.
“No, there’s not a man in the picture,” I said slowly, thinking of Hale.
“What’s number three?” Carl asked.
“Family,” I replied, looking past them at the girls doing somersaults on the lawn. “But if it takes too much longer to knock number two off the list, I’ll move three up.”
“I think those things have kind of a natural chronology,” Carl said.
Delia shoved his arm hard. “Not anymore,” she told him. “Holland is a modern woman. If she wants a baby, she’ll have one. With or without a man.”
Carl looked confused. “Pretty sure the man is still a requirement,” he said.
My cheeks reddened. “Delia doesn’t think so,” I told him. “She brought me a bunch of brochures from a sperm bank.”
Delia was nodding, looking proud of herself. I’d been surprised when she’d handed all the literature to me, though I’d read it with interest. She knew me well, and she was right—having children might one day move higher on my list than having a relationship or a marriage. A family—however that happened—was the one thing I’d always known I wanted. As a kid I’d watched my friends with their parents in their perfect houses, their rooms decorated with Disney characters and stuffed animals. Mama Gi had done what she could for us, but she wasn’t our mother, and she wasn’t wealthy. She’d been present and stable—but she hadn’t been affectionate, and she couldn’t afford to be frivolous. I wanted everything I never had, and if it came from a sperm bank one day, I’d be okay with that.
“Aha,” Carl said, finally getting it. “The turkey baster route.”
“Hopefully there’ll be an actual man instead,” I said. I still couldn’t put Hale’s full lips and stone-cut jaw out of my mind, and something in me was desperate to talk about him. “And, actually, there kind of is, but he’s part of item number one, not number two. And definitely not number three.”
“Is he hot?” Delia’s grin widened.
“It doesn’t matter. This is a work thing. He might be able to help me develop StrokeStat for baseball—I told you guys about this a couple weeks ago, remember?”
“Think it’s gonna work?” Carl asked. Delia and Carl both worked in sports, and had been really interested in everything I’d told them about Cody Tech’s business. Delia coached track and field at Collin University nearby, and Carl was the athletic director there.
“I think it will,” I told him honestly. “But I need help, and I can’t go to anyone in development at Cody. This guy I met—his name is Hale—he used to work up there and he seems really smart.”
“So what’s the issue?” Delia asked.
“I’m just not sure I can trust him. And the whole situation is a little weird. He keeps showing up at work, hanging around the coffeehouse. But I don’t think he works there anymore.” I’d seen Hale entering or leaving the coffeehouse twice since he’d sat down and offered to help me, though he hadn’t lingered and I hadn’t invited him to.
Delia scrunched her nose but didn’t say anything.
“Thebarista seems to know him, though . . . I don’t know what to make of him, really.”
“You didn’t answer the first question,” Carl said. “Is he hot?”
