She still wants that for me. Her disappointment over the breakup of my relationship is still palpable. There’s no way I could tell her the truth. That my ex was such a jerk, I couldn’t take him anymore. I’d even call his treatment of me sometimes borderline…abusive.

And that’s hard to admit.

“Um, thank you, I guess. If you meant that as a compliment,” I say cautiously, worried others might think I’m a snob. Worried even more that my friends might think I’m one as well. Though then again, they wouldn’t be my friends, right? “I hope that doesn’t make me seem…unapproachable.”

“Trust me, you’re not unapproachable. You’re just—wary,” Stella says. “And that’s okay. Really it is.”

“The guy I want to set you up with? He won’t be intimidated by you,” Candice says assuredly. “He’s very easygoing. Not much intimidates him. I mean, if he can stand Charlie barking at him on a daily basis, he can handle anything.”

“What is this perfect male specimen’s name? And where did you find him?” I ask, raising my brows.

“He works at the tree farm with Charlie. And everyone calls him Jonesie. I guess because his last name is Jones,” Candice explains.

The girls start laughing. I can’t help it, so do I. “Okay. What’s his first name?”

“No one ever calls him by his first name,” Candice says with a little frown. “He’s just…Jonesie.”

Oh dear. I can only imagine bringing a man named Jonesie to my parents’ house for them to meet. That probably wouldn’t go over well, especially with my picky mother.

“I cannot go on a date with a man who goes by that name,” I tell Candice.

“Can you imagine screaming it out loud, right in the middle of sex?” Stella asks with a laugh, just before she raises her voice. “Yes, Jonesie! Right there! No, a little to the left! Oh God, Jonesie!”

We’re all in near hysterics by now, leaning on each other as we collapse into laughter. Candice at first appears offended, but her lips start twitching and she eventually gives into the mood that’s swept the table, covering her mouth as she giggles continuously.

Ah, that feels good. I haven’t laughed like this in a long time.

Thank goodness for friends.

“I’m being serious,” Candice says once we’ve all calmed down. “I want to set you two up for my wedding.”

“And how are you going to do that? You’re going to be a little preoccupied tomorrow,” I remind her.

“You two will be seated at the same table at the reception,” Candice says, her eyes dancing as she leans in close to me. “Hopefully right next to each other.”

I raise my brows. There are no guarantees in life. I’ve realized this over the years. “What if we’re not?”

“What do you mean?” Canice appears confused. “Everyone has an assigned table, and you two are at the same one.”

“But what if this Jonesie is a rebel and sits wherever he wants?” I ask.