The Bookish Life of Nina Hill(33)

Nina sighed and stretched out on the floor, gazing at the ceiling. There was a clump of something pink up there. “Is that Play-Doh?”

Lili didn’t even look. “Probably. You’re going to have to go out with him, I guess, to find out whether or not you’re compatible.” She paused. “Do you young people actually date anymore, or do you run algorithms to see if it’s going to work?”

Nina smiled. “Yeah, we have our phones talk to each other and see if our operating systems are compatible. Saves so much time and effort.” She added, “And why you’re calling me ‘you young people,’ when you’re probably all of three or four years older than me, I’m not sure.”

Lili smiled. “Yeah but those are mom years; they’re like dog years, seven for every one. Chronologically, I’m thirty-four, but in mom years, I’m ninety-four.”

“Well . . . then you look great for ninety-four.”

“Thanks. Can’t you stalk him online? I thought you guys all did that.”

“I guess. I don’t know his last name.”

Lili laughed and dragged her laptop over. “Well, what do you know about him?”

“I know he’s on a trivia team that beat my team the week before last. With a question on horse racing, for crying out loud. Did you know that all racehorses have the same birthday?”

Lili nodded absently. “Yes, January first.”

Nina threw up her hands. “Does everyone know this fact except me?”

Lili ignored her. “Here we go. There’s a site that lists all the trivia teams in the East Los Angeles Pub League. Is that your league?”

Nina nodded.

“And what’s his team name?”

“You’re a Quizzard, Harry.”

Lili looked over at her and made a face. “Really? And you think he’s not bookish?”

“Oh,” said Nina, “good point. Not sure that being a Potter fan makes you bookish, per se, but I suppose it does mean he can read.”

“Are you criticizing Harry Potter?”

“Never. I’m a Ravenclaw.”

“A bookworm like you? What a surprise.” Lili was scrolling down a page of some kind, the screen hidden from view. “Here it is. Team members . . .” She paused and frowned suddenly. “Thomas Byrnes.”

“Burns like Edward or Byrnes like David Byrne?”

“The latter. With a Y.” Lili was still frowning. “That’s bizarre.”

“Why?”

Lili didn’t answer and then looked up and smiled suddenly. “Nothing, I got distracted.” She closed the computer. “So now that you know his name you can stalk him to your heart’s content.”

“I don’t know if that’s really my scene.”

“You’re lying.” Lili grabbed one of the blank seed packets and started working on it.

“Yes, I’m lying,” Nina said. “But I’m not in the market for dating right now. Things are pretty tight, time wise, and I have my life together and organized, and I think a boyfriend might be too much.” She started babbling. “Besides, I don’t know if I can manage the Instagram-worthy relationship, with its photo opportunities and matching sweaters and public declarations. I find it hard enough to relate to people in private; having to do that while also creating an effective online presence as a couple . . .”

Lili looked at her, her hand still for a moment. “You do realize it isn’t mandatory to live your life online, right? For thousands of years we managed to be miserable or joyful in private. You can still do it.”

Nina shrugged. “Sure. But even in private, being with someone else feels like . . .” She trailed off. “It feels intrusive.” She thought of something else. “Besides, I have this whole other thing going on.” She told Lili about her family, about her dad, while Lili drew and said, “Mm-hmm,” every so often. Eventually Nina said, “Besides, even if I didn’t have a new cast of thousands to deal with, what would that guy and I talk about once we’d finished discussing Harry Potter? He’s probably only seen the movies, anyway.”

“You’re a snob; there’s nothing wrong with the movies, and I think that whole thing is an excuse to avoid dealing with it,” replied Lili, turning the seed packet over and looking at it. She held it up to Nina. “How’s this one?”

The packet had the name Nina on it, written in vines, surrounded by amber poppies.

“It’s beautiful.”

“Good,” said Lili, “because it’s for you. You’re coming to the wedding.”

“I’m not invited.”

“You are now. Clare invited you. And she doesn’t like to be crossed.”

“That’s true,” said a voice from the doorway. Clare was standing there, holding several sheets of paper, with her editor, Frank. “I finished my book and I’m ready for bed.” Then she looked at Nina. “You can come to the wedding, but you can’t sit with me until after the ceremony, because I am a flower girl, and that is a Series of Responsibilities.”

Nina opened her mouth but closed it again.

“Thanks very much,” she said.

“You can thank me after,” said Lili, getting to her feet. “Assuming you have a good time.”