“I
1
knowyouhatesurprises,Stella.Intheinterestsofcommunicatingour
expectationsandprovidingyouareasonabletimeline,youshouldknow
we’rereadyforgrandchildren.”
StellaLane’sgazejumpedfromherbreakfastuptohermother’sgracefully
agingface.Asubtleapplicationofmakeupdrewattentiontobattle-ready,
coffee-coloredeyes.ThatbodedillforStella.Whenhermothergotsomething
intohermind,shewaslikeahoneybadgerwithavendetta—pugnaciousand
tenacious,butwithoutthesnarlingandfur.
“I’llkeepthatinmind,”Stellasaid.
Shockgavewaytorapid-fire,panic-scrambledthoughts.Grandchildren
meantbabies.Anddiapers.Mountainsofdiapers.Explodingdiapers.And
babiescried,soul-gratingbansheewailsthateventhebestsound-canceling
headphonescouldn’tbuffer.Howdidtheycrysolongandhardwhenthey
weresolittle?Plus,babiesmeanthusbands.Husbandsmeantboyfriends.
Boyfriendsmeantdating.Datingmeantsex.Sheshuddered.
“You’rethirty,Stelladear.We’reconcernedthatyou’restillsingle.Have
youtriedTinder?”
Shegrabbedherwaterandgulpeddownamouthful,accidentally
swallowinganicecube.Afterclearingherthroat,shesaid,“No.Ihaven’t
triedit.”
TheverythoughtofTinder—andthecorrespondingdatingitaimedto
deliver—causedhertobreakoutinasweat.Shehatedeverythingabout
dating:thedeparturefromhercomfortableroutine,theconversationthatwas
byturnsinaneandbaffling,andagain,thesex...
“I’vebeenofferedapromotion,”shesaid,hopingitwoulddistracther
mother.
“Anotherone?”herfatherasked,loweringhiscopyoftheWallStreet
Journalsohiswire-framedglasseswerevisible.“Youwerejustpromotedtwo
quartersago.That’sphenomenal.”
Stellaperkedupandscootedtotheedgeofherseat.“Ournewestclient—a
largeonlinevendorwhoshallremainnameless—providedthemostamazing
datasets,andIgettoplaywiththemallday.Idesignedanalgorithmtohelp
withsomeoftheirpurchasesuggestions.Apparently,it’sworkingbetterthan
expected.”
“Whenisthenewpromotioneffective?”herfatherasked.
“Well...”ThehollandaiseandeggyolkfromhercrabcakesBenedicthad
runtogether,andsheattemptedtoseparatetheyellowliquidswiththetipof