19

THE NEXT TIME MARGOT AND I video-chat, I break the news to her. She’s sitting at her desk,
wearing a Fair Isle sweater, light blue and hunter green, and her hair is wet. She has a Saint Andrews
mug she’s drinking tea out of. “That’s a cute sweater,” I say, nestling my laptop on my thighs and
getting cozy against my pillows. “So guess who Kitty’s been trying to set Daddy up with.”
“Who?”
“Ms. Rothschild.”
Margot practically chokes on her tea. “From across the street? You’ve got to be kidding me. That’s
literally the craziest thing I ever heard.”
“Really? You think so?”
“Yes! Don’t you?”
“I don’t know. Kitty’s been spending a lot of time with her because she’s teaching her how to train
Jamie. She seems pretty nice.”
“I mean, sure, she’s nice, but she wears so much makeup and she’s always spilling hot coffee all
over her cleavage and shrieking like a banshee. Remember how she and her ex-husband used to get
into those screaming matches in their yard?” Margot shudders. “What would she and Daddy even
have to talk about? She’s like a Real Housewife of Charlottesville. Except she’s divorced.”
“She did mention that Real Housewives is her favorite show,” I admit, feeling like a tattletale.
“But she said it’s a guilty pleasure!”
“Which city?”
“I think all of them?”
“Lara Jean, promise me you won’t let her get her hooks in Daddy. He doesn’t know the first thing
about dating in the twenty-first century, and she’ll just eat him alive. He needs to be with someone
mature, someone with wisdom in her eyes.”
I snort. “Like who? A grandma? If so, I know a few from Belleview I could set him up with.”
“No, but someone who’s at least the same age as him! She should be sophisticated, but also enjoy
nature and hiking and that kind of thing.”
“When’s the last time Daddy hiked?”
“Not for years, but that’s the point—he needs a woman who will encourage those kinds of
interests. Keep him active, physically and mentally.”
Giggling, I say, “And... sexually?” I simply cannot resist the joke, or the opportunity to gross
Margot out.
“Ew!” she screams. “You’re depraved!”
“I’m just joking!”
“I’m hanging up on you right now.”
“No, don’t. If Ms. Rothschild isn’t the one, I was thinking he should try online dating. I’ve found a
dating site for him and everything. He’s a handsome guy, you know. And at Thanksgiving, Grandma
was bugging him about dating more. She says it’s not good for a man to be alone.”
“He’s perfectly happy.” She pauses. “Isn’t he?”
“I think he’s perfectly... content? But that’s not the same thing as happy, is it? Gogo, I hate to