“Yeah, I think so. They have a lot in common. They chatted it up during the breaks and at the bar we went to after the jazz club. She’s definitely interested in him, but I haven’t had the chance to talk to him yet. I’d like to see him find someone. I know he has the eternal heart of a bachelor, but Fisher deserves more.”

I wanted to be that more.

Chapter Twenty-Three

I didn’t see Fisher the rest of Saturday because Rory took me shopping, then we had lunch. We ended the day at her salon where she gave me a haircut, even though it was her day off, and we both got manicures and pedicures.

It was a good day, one that started with me in Fisher’s arms and his hand on my butt.

Sunday morning, I showered and slipped on a striped romper and my Birkenstocks for church.

“Coffee?” Rory asked from her corner of the sofa, robe on, hair pulled into a low ponytail.

“I’m good. They have coffee and a buffet of baked goods at church. You know, you could go with me.”

“Mmm …” She wrinkled her nose. “I’m not sure I’m church material anymore.”

I giggled, slipping a few items into my smaller purse. “I don’t think there’s such a thing as church material. All are welcomed in the Lord’s house.”

“When I think of the Lord’s house, I think of Heaven, not a lackluster building with a gymnasium, fitness center, coffee and donuts. Really … they used to build churches—cathedrals—to make you feel like God himself resided in the building, his spirit woven around the intricate wooden carvings, flying buttresses, and stunning stained glass works of art. Sorry … I don’t think the Lord’s house has a basketball hoop … and I love basketball.”

“Fair.” I laughed. “I’ll see you later. I’m not sure when. I told Brendon we could go out for lunch again after church.”

A date. I basically committed myself to another date. But if Fisher could go out and enjoy his time with half-waxed Tiffany, then I could break bread with Brendon after Sunday service.

“You need my keys?” Rory asked as I opened the door.

I forgot to mention that Brendon was also my ride to church since I didn’t have a car yet, and I didn’t want to take Rory’s car with her back in town.

“Brendon’s picking me up.”

Rory’s smile doubled. “That’s … good. Yeah?” She latched onto that like a dog on a rabbit.

“A ride? I suppose it is. I’m still working out some things with Grandma and Grandpa on the money for my car.”

It was a flat “no” when I called them last week. They said “yes” to the Accord or the Forester.

“You know what I mean.” Rory shook her head.