Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 75243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Often, that meant we headed to the movies.
I always deferred to Eloise to pick which film we’d watch. I plan on doing the same thing tonight.
“I skipped dinner so I could load up on popcorn and candy,” she confesses as she tugs up the collar of the striped red and pink sweater she’s wearing.
“Same,” I admit. “The movie is my treat, including the treats.”
She laughs. “I can live with that.”
I gesture down the sidewalk. “We can walk there. It’s only a few blocks unless you want to grab a taxi.”
She points at the white sneakers on her feet. “I’m ready for the hike.”
I glance at the well-worn brown boots I’m wearing. “Me too.”
Before I can take a step, Eloise’s hand is tugging at the sleeve of my jacket. “I appreciate you making time for me. I know you’ve got your hands full with your new boyfriend.”
I laugh. “Boyfriend?”
A smile takes root on her lips. “That’s what he is, right?”
I haven’t thought about it, but Berk did say he wants to be exclusive. I nod. “I guess that’s what he is.”
“You guess?” She lets out a soft giggle. “Have you hung out since Friday night?”
“No,” I answer quickly.
“It’s been four days, Astrid.” She accentuates that point by waving four fingers in the air. “Is there trouble in paradise?”
“There’s work, and he does have a daughter,” I remind her. “I’m going over to his house for dinner tomorrow.”
“Um, what?” Her jaw goes slack. “Dinner at his house? Is this the all-important meet the daughter visit?”
Feeling a twinge of guilt for not telling Eloise that I’ve already met Stevie, I skirt around the issue by dropping a glance at my watch. “The movie starts in ten minutes. We need to hurry. I know how much you hate to miss the previews.”
She links our arms together at the elbows. “You’re right. The previews are the best part. They give me something to look forward to.”
I already have that.
Tomorrow, I’ll deliver my old guitar to Stevie, and I’ll share my first meal with her while her dad sits by my side.
Who knew that choosing what to wear to a simple dinner could be this complicated?
I spent over an hour debating between jeans and a sweater or a dress.
I finally decided that a dress was overkill and opted for a pair of dark wash jeans and the green sweater that Eloise knit for me.
Once that was settled, I dug through the closet of my extra bedroom and found the guitar that I was looking for and some of the first sheet music that my mom ever bought for me.
Even though a few pages have handwritten notes by her, I packed them all up in my tote bag and set off with both guitars to Berk’s place.
I wasn’t convinced that I could handle it all on the subway, so I ordered a rideshare.
He just dropped me off in front of the Morgan brownstone.
I’m currently staring up at the red brick façade while feeling like there’s a kaleidoscope of butterflies battling in my stomach.
Suddenly, the green-hued front door swings open.
“Hey, Astrid!” Stevie bounces out with her hand high in the air. “I’m here. Daddy is here. Come on in.”
I can’t resist that invitation, so I call back, “I’m on my way.”
“Goodie!” She jumps up and down. “I’m ready for my very first guitar lesson. Is that the guitar I get to borrow?”
As I near the steps leading up to where she’s standing, I wiggle the hand holding my first guitar. “This is it.”
“I bet it’s going to be perfect.” She follows my every move with her gaze. “I just know that I’m going to be super good at playing it.”
She sounds just like I did when I was ten years old.
I catch sight of her dad as he steps into view dressed in jeans and a dark blue sweater.
Those butterflies in my stomach are chased away by the relentless thumping of my heart within my chest.
“Welcome, Astrid,” he says in a low tone. “We’ve been waiting for you.”
Stevie’s gaze darts up to his face. “Daddy’s right. We have been waiting. It feels like we’ve been waiting a long time for you.”
Chapter Forty-Two
Berk
Most of the small talk at dinner came from the smallest person sitting at the dining room table.
Stevie monopolized the conversation with stories about school, her piano lessons, and the health struggles of her recently hospitalized nanny.
Mrs. Lindenwood has been helping care for my daughter since Layna died. She’s a grandmother of six who lives just a few blocks away.
A few months ago, she finally gave in to her doctor’s urging to have a knee replacement. She tore through the recovery and physical therapy in no time flat, but then her hip started bothering her, so it meant another trip back to the operating room.
We stopped by her apartment to visit her late this afternoon with a few frozen home-cooked meals and a bouquet of roses Stevie personally picked out.