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ring on his right, but his left ring finger was bare.
Good
, I thought.
    “Do you mind?” he inquired, turning his gaze to me, his eyes searching mine. It was as if he was looking into my soul. “I do not want to intrude.”
    “No. Umm, that’d be great.”
    “Then I’d be delighted to stay,” he said, turning his charms back on my mom.
    “Super,” she said and giggled.
    Super?
Since when does she use the word super?
    “By the way, I love your peace-sign ring,” she added.
    Please don’t call it super.
    He fingered the ring. “Yes. I bought this at a small antique shop in upstate New York several years ago. The carving is supposedly from a fence post from the original Woodstock farm.”
    “You don’t say?”
    “I can’t prove it. But it makes for a good story.” He laughed. She laughed.
    “I love browsing antique shops,” she said. “And estate sales, and garage sales, and lawn sales.” They both laughed some more.
    I regarded Armando laughing with my mother and realized he was everything I could have asked for in a boyfriend for her. He was tall, handsome, elegant, and he obviously spoke a foreign language; he was extremely sexy, well dressed—had a nice butt—drove a hot car, and when he looked at my mother, it was as if she were the most important person on earth. He was perfect for her. I know I should have been happy that she was finally getting over Miller, but there was something about this man I didn’t like, something creepy I couldn’t quite put my finger on. I hated him instantly.
     
     

Chapter Seven
     
     
    Matt stopped by later that same afternoon to make sure I was okay with him and Erin seeing each other. “So, we’re cool, right?” he asked.  
    “Of course we’re cool.”
    Matt smiled.
    Just then my mother breezed into the room singing. She stopped just as she was about to sing out
Copa, Copa Cabana!
“Hi, there, Matt,” she called instead. There was too much cheer in her voice.
    “Hi, Suze. You’re in a good mood.”
    “I’m
always
in a good mood,” she said. “You two kids have fun. And don’t forget to tell your folks I said hi.” She bustled away.
    “Will do,” he replied, but I don’t think she heard him.
    “Dum-dum, dum, dum, dum, dum-dum.” She started humming as she danced from the room.
    “Singing,” Matt said, turning to me with a big grin.
    “Singing Barry Manilow,” I corrected.
    “A lot’s changed in a few days.”
    “True.”
    When things were at their worst, I’d made a late night call to Matt, telling him everything, how Suze had met Miller on the internet, coffee, dating. And then how badly I’d wanted to put an end to their relationship. He listened. He didn’t chastise me for being such an idiot, or tell me how to fix things; he listened. What a friend.
    Hearing the singing coming from down the hall, he couldn’t help but laugh. “She doesn’t sound so broken up now.”
    “That’s because of Armando,” I said. I allowed the name,
Armando
, to linger on my tongue, like I was in an old Saturday Night Live sketch. I filled him in on the cool, suave art dealer I discovered in our kitchen earlier.
    “Megan, please don’t do anything to screw this up for her.” His voice turned serious.
    “No chance of that,” I replied. “Guys like Armando have a million girlfriends. Did I mention he drives a Porsche? I’m sure he’s not seriously interested in her.”
    “Sounds like she’s seriously interested in him,” Matt said.
    “No, he’s not her type. But I’m glad he showed up when he did. Armando is just what my mother needs to get her mind off her failure and rebuild her self-confidence.”
    “Just do me one favor, Megan. If it turns out there
is
something between them, don’t get in the way.”
    “I promise,” I said. “But there’s no chance of that.” Then I said, “Now I want you to do
me
a favor.”
    “What?”
    “You really like Erin?’
    “Uh-huh.”
    “Then don’t forget to invite me to the