The next week, I’m crossed-legged on Edith’s couch, fiddling with the tip of my shoelaces.

“I’ve been asked out on a date,” I blurt.

“How did you feel when he asked you?” Edith counters. “And did you accept?”

How did I feel? Hmm...

Sensing my hesitation, Edith tries a different route. “How’d the two of you meet?”

“Oddly enough, we’ve bumped into each other several times.” I answer honestly. “Do you believe in signs?”

Edith ...