Page 70 of Forest Proximity
I wonder if anyone would notice if I held her hand under the table. Probably not. Muffie and her Mary Poppins bag are commanding the room. She just shot a tangled Slinky into the open trash can in the corner. She must have grandchildren, or there’s something in the air in this town that makes people weirder the longer they live here.
Inger isn’t deterred. “If Adam is the right man for Stevie, he’ll vote his conscience. If he’s the wrong person for my daughter—either because he’s willing to lie about it or because he’s truly not the man for her—Bigfoot will get the vote either way. I say we allow one date.”
Stevie’s mom makes an excellent point, but I never want to be in the position where voting my conscience is a vote against Stevie. As much as I hate it, I need Marlow to keep setting her up with men who drive Segways, and I’ll continue snuggling with Stevie on her couch every night. This is a good system.
With half my focus I monitor the attention of the people around me. With the other half I find Stevie’s wrist under the table. I slide my fingers through hers, squeezing and dropping our hands on her knee. She’s frozen, staring at the tabletop with wide eyes.
“I still say it wastes valuable time,” Muffie says. She emerges from her purse with a half bottle of Diet Coke. There’s a soft hiss when she twists the lid, then she chugs the last of the soda andtosses it in the trash can before returning to the depths of her purse. “Adam will vote Bigfoot either way.”
I don’t appreciate Muffie’s assessment of my character, but I need her to win this one.
August is shaking with silent laughter.
“What are your thoughts, August?” Ike turns to his brother. “Don’t be shy.”
Marlow raises her eyebrows from across the table.
August’s laughter fades, and he straightens. “Allowing—or asking—Adam to date Stevie while he’s a member of this committee would be unethical. He’s a nice guy and wouldn’t want to hurt Stevie. It would be unfair of us to put him in that position.”
Marlow makes a face. We all know she needs August’s support for this to happen.
Ike turns to the room. “Any other comments before we take it to a vote?”
Using everything I’ve learned from years of practice, I attempt to blend in with my surroundings. The last thing I need right now is anyone’s attention on me. Luckily, Ike seems to sense my discomfort, and his focus skips over me.
“Yes!” Muffie hollers.
Everyone around the table faces her expectantly.
She pulls out a roll of TUMS, peeling away the wrapper and popping a few in her mouth. She sighs, closing her eyes and chewing her antacid like she can’t get it into her stomach fast enough. “I say we vote,” she says around her TUMS.
“Okay, let’s do it.” Ike chuckles. “All in favor of Adam being allowed to date Stevie?”
“Aye,” Inger declares alone.
Ike, Diana, and Tina the minute-taker all grimace.
Ike clears his throat. “Any opposed to Adam being allowed to date Stevie at any time for the duration of the Bigfoot Versus Boyfriend bet?”
I don’t want to vote against dating Stevie in front of Stevie. I hold my breath, squeezing her hand under the table. Thankfully, August votes first.
“Nay.” He cringes, mouthing a “Sorry!” to Marlow. He’ll be hearing about this later.
Muffie clotheslines all of her junk back into her purse with her arm. “Nay.”
I release a long breath. “Nay.” Stevie knows why I have to vote this way, I remind myself. She put me in this ridiculous position to begin with.
Ike ends our baloney meeting, Tina closes her laptop, Stevie pulls her hand away, and I am going to burn for eternity. Sure, it’s a made-up committee managing a ludicrous town bet, but it’s starting to feel meaningful. The deceit is wearing me down like I have a cold coming on.
When everyone stands, Stevie wanders toward Ike and Diana like a good secret girlfriend. I’ll leave quietly and call her at home like we discussed earlier. We knew this room would be a minefield.
I’m almost through the door when Inger catches up to me.
“Adam?”
I turn, very aware that Marlow and Stevie are watching our every move. “Mrs. Sullivan?”
She bats the air. “Oh, call me Inger.”
