Grace waves shyly.“Nice to meet you.”
Summer gives her an appraising look, then smirks.“Damn, good genes sure run in your family.” Grace flushes, looking down at her hands.
We settle at a table by the window, sunlight catching the dust motes dancing in the air. We order coffee and a few pastries, flaky croissants and steaming lattes, the smell comforting and familiar.
Grace leans forward, her eyes sparkling.“I talked to him today.”
I glance up.“Caleb?”
Her smile grows.“Yes! He was already sitting when I walked into class, and he was looking at me. So I said hi, and he smiled and said,‘Hi, Gorgeous!’”
Grace claps her hands, thrilled.“He called me gorgeous!”
I laugh, reaching over to squeeze her hand.“I think he likes you,” I tease, wiggling my eyebrows.
Suddenly, a small voice chirps from behind us.“Penny!”
Mia runs out of the kitchen, practically leaping onto my lap before I can brace myself. She wraps her tiny arms around me, then bounds over to Grace with the energy of a whirlwind.“Hi! I’m Mia!” Grace bows down, and the two girls bond instantly, giggling and chatting as Grace helps her with a coloring book.
Summer smiles at the scene.“You have a talent with kids,” she tells Grace.
Grace beams, brushing a stray hair behind Mia’s ear.“I want to be a teacher someday,” she says softly. I watch as she patiently guides Mia’s tiny hand, helping her color within the lines. Grace would make an excellent teacher.
“Any kid would be lucky to have you,” Summer says warmly.“I can see you in front of a classroom, all the little girls looking up at you, and the boys… smitten.” I laugh quietly.
“I can’t wait to have my own classroom someday.” Grace looks down at Mia.“If you ever want a break and need a babysitter, Summer, I’d love to help watch her.”
Summer laughs softly, placing a hand on Grace’s shoulder.“I would love that. I was already looking, but it’s hard to trust my pumpkin with a stranger. Can I have your number so we can set it up?”
“Oh, I’ll send you her number,” I say, pulling out my phone. The bell over the door jingles as new customers enter. I send the number, then glance up to find Grace blushing, her eyes glued to something behind me.
“Grace? You okay?” I ask softly.
She doesn’t answer. I follow her gaze and see three young men dressed in football jerseys at the counter.
“Is that…?” I whisper.
“Caleb,” she murmurs, her voice barely audible.
I study them: one is blonde with brown eyes, not very tall; the second is tall with brown hair and brown eyes; and the third has bright blue eyes fixed on Grace, a wicked, confident smile tugging at his lips. I can see why Grace is smitten.
“Number 17?” I ask, reading the number on his jersey.
“Yes,” Grace whispers, fumbling with her napkin.
I grin.“He’s cute.”
Grace glances back at him, her cheeks flushing.“Yeah.”
Her eyes suddenly widen.“He’s walking over here!” she whispers sharply.
“You got this,” I nudge her under the table.“He’s clearly interested. Just play it cool.”
“Hey, Grace,” a smooth male voice says. I look up and see him in person. Caleb’s smile is even better close-up, that easy charm radiating.
“Hello, Caleb,” Grace says softly, green eyes wide.
Caleb scratches the back of his head, a small, nervous gesture.“I wanted to ask you… if you’re free this Saturday?”
