Page 64 of Bridesmaid Undercover
“You hate cooking?”
She shrugs. “I hate dinner.”
“Why do you hate dinner?”
She shifts, looking slightly uncomfortable. “This is going to sound really pathetic.”
“Bet it won’t,” I reply.
“Oh, it will. Trust me.” She pauses for a moment and then looks me in the eyes. “I hate dinner because it’s lonely. I grew up in a household where dinner is the time when you recount your day with your loved ones. You talk about the successes and the failures. You share stories and indulge in conversation. You know what I mean?”
“Not so much,” I answer. “I mean, I get it. I get what you’re saying, but growing up, we didn’t have dinners like that. My parents weren’t cold to us, but we also weren’t always this cohesive family. A lot of nights, Dad was out with clients and partners or on business trips. Mom had her good days and bad, so it was kind of a free for all. Sometimes I’d eat with Hudson and Haisley, sometimes we’d eat alone in our rooms. Just depended. But then there were the rare nights where we’d all sit down at the table. Actually, I remember those nights. I remember the conversations.” They were some of the best nights because we’d often end up teasing each other, actually relaxing. They were fun. Especially when the parents weren’t home.
Why didn’t we do that more often with each other?
“You know, I see why you miss that.”
“I do,” she says. “I hate going home to an empty apartment. I hate warming up a premade dinner and eating by myself at my table. Just feels so sad.” She shrugs. “Would be nice to find someone to share that part of my life with.”
“I get it,” I say. “That’s not pathetic at all, Everly. It’s actually…sweet.”
She smiles softly.
“That’s why I’m trying to see if I can rekindle things with Maple. I’m ready for more.”
“I think we both are,” Everly says.
“Then maybe I’ll help you find someone as well,” I reply.
She sighs. “Maybe.”
What I don’t get iswhyEverly is single. She’s sweet, gorgeous, does not seem to have a mean bone in her body, and can definitely hold her own with the banter. And really, she’s not asking for a lot. Companionship is something most people want.So, I need to be hunting for a nice guy for her. Not a potato like Mr. Licks-his-cat’s-paws.
“He would have to be the right person though. I’m not going to try to set you up with some Tomothy. Fuck, no. It would need to be a…a…an Ezra.”
“Ezra?” She chuckles. “What’s an Ezra?”
“Well, he’s not a Tomothy, that’s for damn sure. But someone who would make you dinner when you got home—and not complain about the complexities of the female genitalia.”
She chuckles. “Ahhh, I see. Now that would be refreshing. Do you happen to know any Ezras?”
I scratch my chin. “Not presently, but I’m going to do some digging for you.”
Just then her phones rings, and she rushes to answer.
“Hey, Maggie. Nope, nothing yet. He’s still in surgery. Okay, yeah. Drive safe, okay, and I’ll be sure to let you know if we hear anything. Okay, bye.”
She hangs up. “She’s going to be an absolute mess when she arrives.”
“Well, good thing we’re here to help her out.”
“Maggie, I love you so much,”Brody says as he buries his head in her neck and holds her tightly.
The surgery was a success, thankfully. It was about an hour long, so when they finished, Maggie wasn’t here yet, but because the anesthesia had to wear off, he wasn’t awake. The doctor couldn’t give us much information, but he did give us a thumbs up, which we relayed to Maggie.
When Maggie arrived, she was a bumbling mess like Everly assumed. The moment she saw us, she fell into Everly’s arms, completely distraught, but when Brody woke up from surgery, we were allowed back to his room where he gave the doctor permission to talk about his surgery.
His appendix had burst, but there doesn’t seem to be an infection. They’ll be keeping him for the next 24–48 hours to observe him, and from what I can see, Maggie will be attached to his hip.
