Right Number, Wrong Girl

“I’m almost eighty. I always need a lie down.” She sniffed and looked around. “You should ask her out.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Oh, that’s right. You’re seeing someone, according to your mother. Is it her?”

“I’m not seeing Camilla.” Technically, that was true.

She tapped her finger against her lips. “She said her name was Sandra. No, Sophie. Who is she?”

“Nice try. I’m not saying anything. Like I told Mum, it’s new, and I don’t know where it’s going.”

I knew where I wanted it to go.

I didn’t want her to leave at all.

I didn’t know how we’d get around that, but there had to be a way to let the truth come out.

There was something about her.

Something about the way she made me feel. I’d meant every word I’d said to her this morning—I didn’t want her to leave. I wanted things to be different. I wanted us to be able to try a relationship for real and see if we could make it work.

The intensity of my feelings for her terrified me a little.

I’d never been so drawn to anyone in my life, and when I put it all together, it put me in a position I’d never been in before.

The one where I was pretty sure I’d met the woman I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with.

I couldn’t admit that out loud. Everyone would think I was insane, because there wasn’t really any way for me to know that this quickly.

Yet I did.

A niggle.

A little one in the back of my mind, in the deepest part of my stomach.

It told me that Sophie was the person I’d been waiting for.

She was the one.

And I didn’t know how to convince her of that.

“You’re staring again,” Grandma said, flipping through the paper. “Why do they put these stupid sudoku things in? Who thinks number games are fun? What kind of sadists enjoy these?”

I peered over. “I’ve never been able to figure those out.”

“That’s because they’re bloody stupid.” Grandma closed the paper and eyed me. “I see you’ve finally stopped looking at the girl.”

“Grandma. Give it a rest, would you?”

“I will not. You definitely have a crush on her.”

“Is there nothing else you can do? You’re repeating yourself.”

“Yes. I can eat. I’m hungry.” She pushed up to standing and hobbled off towards the door, and I shook my head after her.

The woman was like a dog with a bone. If she got one idea, that was it. There was no getting it out of her head.

She wasn’t wrong, of course, but still.