Page 92 of The Wedding Favor

I frowned at the side salad I’d ordered with my burger and curly fries. It had tiny, diced tomatoes, the kind that were impossible to pick off. I was pretty sure I’d said no tomatoes.

“Actually, is it possible to get the salad without tomatoes?” Abe said, nodding toward my bowl.

“Of course.” She winked. At Abe. “I’ll be right back.”

I stared at Abe in disbelief. “How did you know I don’t like tomatoes?”

“It’s probably on his list,” Hallie said around a bite of her hamburger. “He keeps lists on his phone.”

“What kind of lists?” I asked, confused.

Hallie shrugged. “Like for places we want to go for vacation one day or Halloween costume ideas. But then there’s lists for people, too. There’s one for me and Grandma and Grandpa and Aunt Ali and Uncle Theo and⁠—”

“I think she gets it,” Abe said. His eyes darted to me and then back to his plate like he was almost… nervous?

“Is there a list for me?”

Hallie stuffed a French fry in her mouth and nodded. “Show it to her, Dad.”

“Thanks, Hal. I’m going to make you eat broccoli for every meal tomorrow.” He ducked his head. “It’s not a big deal. What are the chances we could forget this conversation?”

“Zero. Definitely zero.”

Reluctantly, Abe handed over his phone. “It’s not weird. It just to help me remember things. That’s it.”

A list with my name at the top and several bullet points looked up at me from his phone. I read them aloud. “Likes pickles or maybe just jars of pickles?” I paused and shot him a smile. “Hates tomatoes.”

“When we were at that barbecue at your sister’s house…”

“You noticed that?”

He shrugged, looking vaguely uncomfortable.

“Must eat chocolate daily which she keeps hidden in stashes everywhere.”

“I found the one under the kitchen sink,” he said.

“But not the other one?”

“There’s another one?”

“Or two.” Or three. “Favorite color, yellow. Hates crowds. Favorite movie, Seven Brides for Seven Brothers. Loves old movies. Has never seen Casablanca. Takes her coffee with three sugars, one cream.”

It kept going. Apparently, I’d once mentioned I wanted to take a Thai cooking class. Another time, he’s overheard me tell Hallie that I wanted to see a Broadway musical one day. More than once, I’d brought up my desire to adopt a tiny dog with a huge attitude that I could carry in my purse and scare people with its ferocious bark. That also made the list.

“It makes buying gifts easier,” he said. “Hallie’s always telling me some new thing she wants.”

I only half heard him because I’d reached the bottom of the list where it took a turn towards more personal information. These, I did not read out loud:

Has the prettiest blue eyes

Always smells like maple syrup

Has a freckle that looks like Italy on her right arm

Makes me laugh

Takes care of the people she loves