The Blind Date Agreement

Two

Saturday mornings in my house are always the best; it's when my dad tries out new recipes. It makes my house smell like freshly baked goods, and today, mouth watering sugared strawberry lingers in the air.

"What are you making and why don't I have a slice yet?" I ask Dad as I sit at the kitchen island.

He's stirring something over the stove as he sends me an amused glance. Dad has hazel eyes, like me, but his are a smidge greener, and his hair is a deep brown. I get my lighter brown hair and height from Mom.

"It's not ready yet," he reprimands with a smile as he stirs. "Strawberries will be in season soon, so I'm trying to perfect our strawberry pie recipe before offering it at the bakery."

My parents own one of the largest fresh bakery chains in the Greater Toronto Area. They started with a small one about ten minutes from where we live now, and have been expanding ever since. Dad is the genius behind the recipes, and Mom takes care of the business side of things. She's the reason they expanded and business is thriving; Dad's content with just hiding in the kitchen. They make a great team and their hard work pays off. The bakeries are always busy, and it's going to multiply tenfold now that it's spring, and summer's just around the corner.

"I'm sure it's delicious," I reassure him, trying to peek into the pot to see if it's something I can sample.

"Don't you have to get ready for work? Shoo!" He doesn't like being bothered before the final product, throwing random stuff into the pot without measuring. I have no idea how the result is always so good when he makes it up as he goes along.

"Yes," I say begrudgingly, crossing into the family room. "But there better be a slice with my name on it when I get back!"

He laughs, but I know he'll save me a slice even if he decides he doesn't like the recipe. In the family room, Mom is sitting on the couch, her laptop on the coffee table in front of her. Kevin is curled up beside her, sleeping the morning away.

"Hey, honey. How was last night? I didn't hear you get in," she asks, pushing her glasses up her nose.

I plop down beside her on the leather couch and Kevin ambles onto my lap. She's only fifteen pounds, so her fluffy weight is comforting. The windows are open, letting in the fresh early morning breeze and making the couch slightly cooler than normal.

"Alright, I guess," I pet Kevin's brown and white coat to avoid Mom's gaze. It was not alright. It was terrible, and I embarrassed myself in front of everyone, and I met a jerk whose name I don't even know.

Mom lowers her laptop screen to focus on me. "What happened?"

I am not admitting to my mother that a hot jerk almost threw me off a cliff. "Nothing. It was a usual night out."

She presses her lips together. "Just you, Emi, and Kalani?"

"And Emmett and Daphne."

"Hmm." She studies me. "They've been bringing their partners out an awful lot."

Squirming under her glare, I study the ends of my hair. I hate when she goes all analytical on me; it makes me spill my guts even though there are some things you just shouldn't tell your mother. "I'm just happy they're still inviting me out on their couple's nights."

She grabs my hand to stop me from pulling on a split end, forcing me to look at her. "They're your best friends. It's not a chore for them to hang out with you."

"I know. It's just... ever since Daphne and Emmett started hanging out with us, I never get any quality time with Emi and Kalani. Kalani always brings up how I fifth wheel them, and I don't want them to stop inviting me out..."