Gretchen pulled up to her parents' house. There was nothing about the two-story brick home that would suggest the occupants were anything other than middle class. In fact, Gretchen's great-great-grandfather had invented the Mister Miser board game that had been purchased by a massive toy company in 1907, and was now in nearly every American home. He'd been a shrewd businessman and had the foresight to include language about any current and future versions of the game–which meant the estate drew significant royalties from video game and app versions that could never have been conceived of when he made the deal.
When her grandmother inherited the estate, she made some wildly lucrative investments that had paid off in spades. Then Dory, her mother, the only child of an only child, inherited everything. She made wise investments of her own, and the fortune had only grown under her watchful eye.
Still, her parents' money philosophy had always been "easy come, easy go" and as such, they always expected Gretchen to work for what she wanted. Growing up, she had chores and part time jobs like the majority of her peers did.
Gretchen was very conscious of how fortunate she was, not only to have grown up never wondering where her next meal might come from, but also to have parents who instilled a solid work ethic in her.
She breezed through the front door. "Hello?"
Footsteps thundered down the stairs. "Mommy!"
Gretchen reached out and caught Abby as she leaped off the bottom step. "Hey, speed racer, your hair's all wet."
"I just took my bath."
Dory appeared at the upstairs railing. "We were just about to blow dry."
Abby scrunched up her face. "It's too loud."
"Yes, but if you go to bed with wet hair, you'll end up with a tangled rat's nest in the morning."
"So?"
"So then it'll hurt when we brush it out."
Abby shrugged dramatically and declared, "Then we won't brush it."
Dory clucked her tongue. "You sound exactly like your mother did when she was your age."
"Ugh, not another boring story about Mom."
"Hey, now." Gretchen shook her head and looked at her mom. "Thanks for watching her today. We weren't expecting it to take so long, but one of the new volunteers had a great idea for showcasing the senior animals. Hopefully we can find some of them their forever homes."
"Like Walter?" Abby asked.
"Exactly." Gretchen smoothed Abby's wild hair back from her forehead.
Walter was the nine year old pug they'd rescued a year earlier after an elderly client of Lincoln's was moved to an assisted living facility and could no longer care for him. He was the sweetest gentleman, and Gretchen gladly sent him updates and pictures of Walter regularly.
Abby danced away, toward the kitchen, singing a song about snacks. Definitely a kid after Gretchen's own heart. "Snacks?"
"We made Rice Krispies treats," Dory said.
"My favorite." She followed Abby to the kitchen and helped herself to a huge marshmallow treat with miniature chocolate chips sprinkled over the top. "Yum."
"Grandma let me put the chocolate chips on."
"Good job."
Abby side-eyed her grandmother and added, "She made me use a spoon."
Dory put her hands on her hips and cocked her head. "Because you wanted to dump the whole bag on them."
"So?"
"So that would have been a mess."
Gretchen popped the last bite in her mouth. "This was just the right amount of chocolate chips."
Abby grumbled, "I guess."
The front door opened and closed, followed by a loud exclamation of, "BRRR!" from Gretchen's dad.
"Grandpa!" Abby scrambled down off the chair and raced down the hall.
Dory called out, "Brian, blow dry her hair, would you, please?"
"Sure," he called back.
"So, Mom," Gretchen said as she put her dirty glass in the dishwasher.
"Yes?"
"Can you hang with Abby Friday night?"
Dory immediately perked up and raised an eyebrow. "And why might you be asking?"
"Don't get your hopes up."
"Yes, we can watch her, what do you have going on?"
She glanced toward the hallway. "I sort of have a date." She held up a hand before her mom got the wrong idea. "But it's not really a date."
Dory leaned her hip against the counter and crossed her arms. "A date that's not a date. How exactly does that work?"
"Because it's with Lincoln."
Dory's head jerked slightly with surprise. She stood up straight and crossed her arms. An eyebrow inched upward. "Lincoln? You're going out with Lincoln? Really?" She was entirely too excited about this.
"Not really-really. You know he's been getting a lot better with his anxiety and he actually went on a date last night but it crashed and burned in a most spectacular fashion. Mostly because he had Alex, Oren, and Noah in his ear. Literally. He wore and earpiece and they told him what to say."
Dory put a palm to her face and shook her head. "Oh, no. Which one of them thought that was a good idea?"
"They all went along with it, so apparently all of them. It was bad." She gave her mom a few of the highlights.
"Oh, poor Lincoln. That poor girl."
"So we were talking about it and he said he was going to give up trying again until after the holidays. That's when I suggested we go on some practice dates from now until New Year's. That'll give us both someone to do stuff with, and I'll give him feedback from a dating perspective."
"That's a much better idea than wearing an earpiece. Why on Earth would they tell him to order her dinner? That's a risky proposition when you've been with someone forever, let alone on a first date. What were they thinking?"
"Something about chivalry."
Dory snort-laughed. "Chivalry! More like stupidity."
"We're not blabbing to everyone that it's basically fake dating. We're just going with the basic truth. We're dating casually, nothing serious, no plans for the future. I'm not sure his family is going to like the idea. Now that more he's comfortable talking to people, particularly women, they think he should have no problem being a social butterfly and finding a perfect wife."
"Hmm. I'm sure they mean well. They know he's a great guy so it's hard to imagine not everyone can see it. It's got to be frustrating for him, though."
"It is." Gretchen reached over and slung her arm around her mom's shoulders. "They're not cool like you and dad. No pressure to find a new husband from you guys."
Dory narrowed her eyes. "Only because we have outstanding self-control. You know we want to see you find someone."
"Eventually, maybe. It's hard to think about dating and romance with my schedule."
Dory squeezed her middle. "You mean Abby's schedule."
"Both. Speaking of which, I need to stop by the theater and make sure the ballet dancers don't need anything."
"Ballet dancers?"
"Didn't I tell you? The dance school is using the theater this year for The Nutcracker since we have more seating."
"I don't think you mentioned it. You're not doing A Christmas Carol this year?"
"Nah. Attendance was way down last year, so I figured people are tired of doing the same thing year after year. We'll take this year off and maybe even next year, and then we'll revisit adding it back onto the schedule. Besides, it'll be nice for our players to have some time off before we start prepping for The Merchant of Venice."
"Time off? Do you even know what that is?"
"Do you?" Gretchen fired back with a laugh.
"Touché."
Abby skipped into the kitchen.
"Grab your stuff, kiddo. We're heading home."
"Fiiiiiiiiine." Abby groaned and hunched over, letting her arms flop like she was too weak to stand, then lurched out of the room like Quasimodo.
Dory snickered. "Gee, I don't know where she gets her flair for the dramatic."
Gretchen flung her arm across her eyes and wailed, "How dare you attack me so viciously! And unprovoked. Oh, my heart, my soul. The pain. Oh, the searing pain. You have wounded me, wounded me such that I shall never heal! I beg for your mercy. Pull thy dagger from betwixt my shoulder blades."
"Like I said. No idea where she gets it. Baffling, really."
"It's a mystery," Gretchen laughed.
* * *
After Abby was in bed, Gretchen curled up on the couch with her cozy afghan and texted Jody.
She was still typing a reply when the incoming call buzzed. "Ha, ha, you're very funny."
"Do we need to do a video call so I can see if you have lizard eyes? Tell me something only Gretchen would know."
"How about that I love you even when you drive me crazy."
Jody abruptly change the subject. "By the way, that case of extra dark roast you ordered came in today."
"Dark roast? That stuff is disgusting, what are you even talking about?" For a second she thought Jody was on the phone with the wrong person.
"Whew, it really is you."
"Very funny."
"Just checking. Now fill me in. How did you get a date today? Weren't you helping at the shelter?"
"Yes."
"Did some really cute guy come in and adopt a dog and you just couldn't resist?"
"Not exactly."
"Ooooh, so a really cute guy came in and he couldn't resist you."
"No. You're getting farther away."
"You're killing me here. Spill. Leave nothing out."
"The date isn't for me."
"What?" The confusion and impatience was ramping up, if Jody's voice was any indication.
"I was talking to Lincoln. He had a disaster of a date last night. Like epic, sell everything and move to a monastery in Tibet, monumentally, awfully bad. Like… bad."
"It couldn't have been that bad."
"Alex and Oren and Noah were guiding him through an earpiece."
"What?!" Jody's shriek was so loud she half-expected it to wake Abby up.
"Yeah."
"Oh, no."
"He was pretty discouraged. So I suggested I help him."
"Please tell me you're not using the earpiece."
"No. I'm going to go on a few dates with him and sort of coach him on how to date."
"Huh? Won't that be super awkward if you go along on his dates and coach him through? Where did you come up with that cockamamie scheme?"
Gretchen couldn't figure out where her explanation had gone so wrong. "No, no. That would be really weird. This is just me and Lincoln. Essentially dating. Each other."
The silence stretched so long Gretchen pulled her phone away to make sure the call hadn't disconnected.
Jody finally said, "Let me get this straight. You're going to date Lincoln. In some bizarre fake practice dating thing that you both think sounds like a good idea?"
"It is a good idea."
She blew out an audible breath. All teasing left her voice. "It's a terrible idea. You should not do this."
"Too late. Our first date is next Friday."
"Date," she scoffed.
"It's a good thing. Lincoln gets some practice and I get to go out and do stuff. It's going to be great."
"Yeah, until one of you forgets it's supposed to be fake."
"Don't be ridiculous." That wasn't even a possibility.
"Hmm."
"No hmm. I'm serious, Jody, it's going to be fine."
"If you want my advice, I'd cancel and call this off. Something is bound to go wrong."
Jody's hesitation gave her pause, but only for a moment. "I think it's going to be great."