P.S. I Still Love You

think of him being lonely... and the way Kitty’s so bent on setting him up with Ms. Rothschild, it
makes me think she’s longing for a mother figure.”
Margot sighs and takes a sip of tea. “Okay, work on his profile and send me the login info so I can
weigh in on everything. We’ll handpick a few and present him with a really curated selection so he
doesn’t get overwhelmed.”
Impulsively I say, “Why don’t we hold off until we see how this thing with Ms. Rothschild plays
out? We should at least give her a chance, don’t you think? For Kitty’s sake.”
Margot sighs again. “How old do you think she is?”
“Like, thirty-nine? Forty?”
“Well, she dresses much younger.”
“You shouldn’t hold that against her,” I say, though I will admit to feeling slight discomfort when
she said we shop at the same places. Does that mean she dresses too young or I dress too old? Chris
has called my style “granny meets little-girl chic” and “Lolita went to library school.” Which reminds
me. “Hey, if you see any cute kilts, will you bring one back for me? Red tartan, maybe with a big
safety pin button?”
“I’ll keep my eyes open for you,” she promises. “Maybe I can find matching for the three of us.
Actually, the four of us. It can be next year’s Christmas card.”
I snort. “Daddy in a kilt!”
“You never know, he might be into it. He’s always talking up his one-quarter Scottish heritage. He
can put his money where his mouth is.” She wraps both hands around her mug and takes a sip of tea.
“Guess what. I met a cute boy. His name is Samuel, and he’s in my British pop culture class.”
“Ooh. Does he have a posh accent?”
“Indubitably,” she says in a posh English accent. We both giggle. “We’re meeting up at a pub
tonight. Wish me luck.”
“Luck!” I shout.
I like seeing Margot like this, so light and happy and unserious. I think it must mean she’s really
and truly over Josh.