Dad’s eyes went wide and he grinned. “Two dates?”
I cleared my throat. “I quoted Emily Dickinson. The fact he knew who that was without having to google anything was quite surprising. But yes, technicalities aside, we discussed meeting twice this week.”
“Reciting poetry would have won me over too,” Mom said fondly. “Do you want to know where your father took me on our first date?”
“Where?”
“To watch a foal being born.”
“Emergency births are hardly planned that way,” Dad said. Then he smiled at Mom. “Anyway, it worked like a charm, did it not?”
She gave his hand a squeeze. “Yes, it did.”
“Well, I hope there are no emergencies next Sunday,” I said, making a face.
Oh good.
I had seven days to wait. Seven days to think up a hundred different equally awful scenarios.
Seven days of overthinking, seven days of anticipation and a belly full of butterflies.
I had to come up with something to distract myself... and I thought I knew of the perfect way.
CHAPTER TEN
WINTER
The next weekbegan in a bit of a blur.
I had deliveries of stock, which meant more inventory, customers almost every minute of every day, late evenings, and two gremlin kittens who were growing like weeds taking up every spare moment of my day.
I got a text every morning at eight o’clock sharp from Deacon. Not just any kind of mundane text. Oh no... these were quotes, simply one line from a poem and nothing else.
It made every part of me happy.
Monday morning:Hope Is the Thing with Feathersby Emily Dickinson.
Tuesday morning:I Wandered Lonely as A Cloudby William Wordsworth.
Wednesday: Joy And Woeby William Blake. If he knew how much I adored his work.
I’d replied to each one with a gif of epic swooning because no words could so adequately describe how it made me feel.
I was positively on cloud nine.
I did text him every night when I was finally at home, in bed, done with the world for the day. Not with anything as profound as he sent me, but just small snippets of thought.
Crazy busy day today. Ordered more Studio Ghibli fun stuff
Did you know that Emily Dickinson’s father was a US senator?
Yes I knew that.
Of course he knew that.
I sent him a photo of Bright and Merry curled up asleep together in their blankets.
And a photo of the page ofHowl’s Moving Castleas I re-read it for the nth time.
