I watch her in the mirror as her eyes rise to meet mine, her interest sparked.
“Your father loved that pasta so much the other night, and imagine how surprised he will be if you know how to make it yourself.”
She bites her bottom lip as she contemplates the idea. “What’s the second surprise?”
“I enrolled us both in golf lessons.”
“What?” She shrieks. “I’m not doing golf lessons with you. You’re so embarrassing.” She stays silent for a moment. “Probably run over somebody or something,” she mutters under her breath.
I smile because I knew she was going to say that. “Okay, I won’t come, but you start next Wednesday.” I was never really enrolled anyway.
She twists her lips as she looks out the window, and I know that, even though she will never admit it, she’s kind of happy about it.
I
