Via cocked her head to the side, back on even footing. He was flustered. “No, I think she wanted you to have it for social reasons. A date? It’s okay if you don’t want to take it.”

“Right.” He stared down at the phone, just a touch of color in his cheeks. “Mind if I ask you how, uh, old she is?”

Via cocked her head to one side. “She’s thirty.”

“Right,” Sebastian repeated and seemed to be weighing something in his mind. He cleared his throat and waggled the phone. “You mind if I text the info to myself?”

“Sure, that’s fine.” That way I’ll have your number, too. She didn’t say it out loud, of course. She paused and tried very hard not to ask. “You think you’ll call her? Just curious.” She shrugged and hoped it looked casual.

“I don’t know,” Sebastian replied as he handed the phone back. “How does she feel about kids?”

“What do you mean?” It was cute that that was the first thing he thought of when considering calling up a woman. Very cute.

“I just mean that I’ve recently had some...miscommunications with women about Matty. And I’m not really interested in connecting with somebody if they aren’t cool with his place in my life.”

“Ah.” Via frowned. Who the hell were the women he was dating if they disapproved of Matty? Matty, the sweetest kid of all time. And anyone with eyes could see how important he was to Sebastian. “Fin would never hold that against you. If that’s what you mean. We both grew up in nontraditional homes, so she definitely understands the importance of family in a kid’s life.”

“Cool.” He shrugged and looked forward. Suddenly a small blush rose up out of the collar of his worn green button-down. He shifted. “Uh. You mind if I ask just how psychic she really is?”

Via laughed in delight. Jeez. He really was cute. All masculine and nervous at the same time. He and Fin would make a cute couple, she told herself. “Not as much as you’re probably imagining. She can’t touch your hand and know your bank pin or something. More, she’s just intuitive. And she’s usually right about everything. Annoyingly so.”

He chuckled, but he still seemed a little nervous. “All right.” He cleared his throat and suddenly looked very, very uncomfortable. “She doesn’t talk to the dead, does she?”

Oh.

The air turned to ice in Via’s lungs. She understood what he was really getting at now. His wife. Of course. She was sure he’d come to have certain beliefs about the afterlife after his wife had died. Most people did. It was a coping mechanism. But it had only been two and a half years or so, by her calculations. She was sure that he wasn’t completely over it. And he certainly wouldn’t want some spooky psychic attempting to make contact with his deceased wife over a Friday night date.

“No,” Via answered resolutely. “She doesn’t do that.”