Your Perfect Year(126)

“So?” Hannah said as she scraped the crumbling remains of the cakes into a trash bag.

“What do you mean, ‘so’?” Lisa regarded her friend reproachfully.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t understand what you’re driving at.”

“Of course you don’t!” Lisa drew the pout on her lips into an even more exaggerated pout. “You’re off for a wonderful dinner with Jonathan, then seeing in the New Year with him, while I’m left here alone!”

“Are you angling to come with us?”

“On your date?” Lisa looked horrified. “No way!”

“It’s not a date,” Hannah corrected her. “We’re not on those terms yet. At least, I’m not. I like Jonathan, that’s all. We’ll see how it goes.”

“I can imagine exactly how it’ll turn out if you’ve got me hanging around at the table with the two of you,” Lisa said, unable to suppress a grin. “You could wave goodbye to any romance.”

“Don’t be silly! I’d be completely okay with you coming along. And I’m sure Jonathan would too.”

“I doubt Jonathan would agree with you, though he’d act the perfect gentleman. And I wouldn’t be okay with it either. Anyway, I don’t mind being on my own tonight. I hate all this New Year’s hype; I’m usually in bed well before midnight.”

“Then I don’t understand what your problem is.”

“Well, because the year’s nearly over!”

“That’s right. And then a new one begins. It happens every year, if you hadn’t noticed.”

“But I haven’t met anyone!”

At last the penny dropped with Hannah. “Shit, I completely forgot. You mean because Sarasvati told you that you’d meet a man this year?”

“Precisely.” Another gloomy pout.

“Oh, sweetie!” Hannah dropped the bag, went over to her friend, and took her arm. “Someone’s bound to come along next year,” she said as she stroked Lisa’s back.

“I don’t understand.” Lisa buried her face in Hannah’s shoulder. “Sarasvati’s never been wrong before.”

“Maybe she was having a bad day.”

“Very funny.”

“Or . . .” Hannah paused to think. “Or maybe she was talking about another kind of year.”

“Huh?” Lisa looked up at Hannah in confusion.

“Yes, that could be it. The . . . the Chinese calendar, for example? Or the Indian one? Gregorian? I don’t know—there’s bound to be some calendar in which the new year comes around at the end of January, or even in February. Or whatever.”

“So maybe I’m going to fall in love with a Chinese guy?”

“Or a Gregorian monk.”

Lisa snorted with laughter. “It’s kind of you to try and cheer me up.” She sighed. “But if I’m going to meet someone, I’m beginning to think I should put my money into an online-dating app instead of any more tarot readings.”

“Oh, don’t! Just think of all the beer-bellied mother’s boys on those sites! Anyway, you’re being way too pessimistic. The year isn’t over yet.”

“You’re right. I’ll probably bump into the love of my life on the way home.”

“It’s possible.”

A knock on the door caused Lisa and Hannah to turn. Through the frosted glass they could make out what looked like a man, wildly gesturing to be let in.

“We’re closed for the day!” Lisa called.

The man put his gloved hands together as if in prayer and moved to bend his knees.

“Did one of the dads forget something?” Hannah went to answer the door.

“Or someone waiting to ambush us!” Lisa called after her.

“Oh, yeah. He’s sure to have his eye on the remains of the mashed-up chocolate marshmallows,” Hannah said as she opened the door.

“Thank you!” the man said. He walked in, desperation showing on his face, and removed his hat and scarf to reveal big ears and chin-length hair. Presumably the haircut was influenced by the ears. His tragic expression and brown eyes made him look like a dachshund who wants to jump up on a lady’s knee but knows he’s not allowed. Cute, somehow.

“What can we do for you?” Hannah asked.

He only had eyes for Lisa. No words passed his lips; it was as though someone had taped his mouth shut.

“Hello?” Hannah looked at him with a frown. First he insisted on coming in, now he was ignoring her? “What do you want?”

“What?” He turned to face her. “I’m sorry, I was . . . I mean, I’m . . .”

“Go on.” Hannah glanced sidelong at Lisa, and her smile of amusement faded as she saw that her friend was in a similar state of shock.

“Um, yes, I wanted to ask . . . Please tell me you’re open the first week in January! And that you have a place for a four-year-old girl!”

“You’re in luck,” Hannah said. “We’re only closed tomorrow, back on the second, and we can take another child, yes.”

“Thank goodness!” The man sighed. His eyes returned to Lisa. “You’ve saved my life!”

“Are things that serious?” Hannah asked.