Chapter 8Wills dated sporadically his senior year, explaining he was too busy with his studies to concentrate on one girl in particular.
“He’ll find someone eventually, darling Jack,” Jill said when I brought up the subject after Harry’s wedding, where Wills, looking very handsome in his tux, if his old man could say so, had danced with every woman there, including a ladies’ choice with Marti, when she’d wormed her way through the crowd of women clamoring to have him for their partner and loudly declared, ‘My dance!’
“Yes, but—”
“You found me, didn’t you?”
“Yes, and I thank my lucky stars. I just want him to be happy.”
“He will be. Just let him go at his own pace.”
“You’re right, Jilly.”
She cuddled up against me and succeeded in replacing my thoughts of Wills with something else.
