Page 20 of Sparks Fly

* * *

By the time I finally shut my laptop and left the office, it was nearly eight p.m. The sun was just beginning to sink behind the buildings, softening the city in the fading light.

I drove across town to my parents’ house, trying very hard not to think about the word beautiful again.

At the next light, my phone buzzed in the holder mounted to the dash. I glanced and saw Benji’s name.

Benji: Hey. I’m not making it to family dinner tonight. Install ran late and I’m wiped. Sorry for leaving you without backup.

I huffed out a quiet laugh and typed back.

Me: Traitor.

Benji: I know. Love you.

Me: Love you too.

I sighed, Benji was usually my buffer at these dinners, the one who cracked jokes or redirected conversations before they drifted into quiet interrogations about my life. Without him, it would just be me.

* * *

Dinner at my parents was exactly what it always was. My mother’s table was flawless with linen napkins, a floral centerpiece, and crystal glasses that caught the light from the chandelier above. Everything looked effortless in the way that only came from a great deal of effort.

“So,” my mother said lightly while folding her hands beside her plate, “how are things with Jason?”

I took a sip of wine before answering. “They’re good. Still casual, though.”

“Still casual?” she asked, her tone unchanged even though the question sharpened slightly. “He seems like such a catch. So polite and from a good family.”

“Yes,” I said simply while setting my glass down. “He is very polite.”

“What’s stopping it from being serious, then?” she asked, tilting her head slightly as though the answer should be simple. “He seems very steady.”

Steady. That was the word people always used for men like Jason.

I hesitated before answering. “I don’t know, Mom. I’m just not sure we’re right for each other.”

Her brows lifted slightly, but she did not press the way I expected. Instead she dabbed her napkin lightly against her lips and shifted the conversation. “Lilly’s wedding is coming up soon. How’s the planning going?”

I sighed through a small laugh. “Busy. Bridal shower next weekend. Honeymoon shopping the following Sunday. Everything has to be themed.”

“Well,” she said with a soft smile, “you’re the maid of honor. You have to be there, and make sure it’s all perfect for Lilly.”

“Co-maid of honor,” I corrected gently, as I picked up my glass again.

“She’s been your best friend since you were children, Addison,” my mother said while adjusting the silverware beside her plate. “You should be thrilled for her wedding.”

“I am,” I said quickly. “I am thrilled.”

My mother smiled at me then, patient and composed in the way she always was. “Weddings do have a way of making people think about their own futures,” she said thoughtfully. “All that joy in the air tends to inspire things.”

knew exactly what she meant, but I only took another sip of wine and let the subject die. The rest of dinner passed without her bringing it up again, and I left soon after dessert.

* * *

The rest of the week moved quickly.

Wednesday passed in a blur of showings, emails, and a stack of paperwork that never seemed to shrink no matter how many files I cleared off my desk.