She was back to staring at the stove, but her lips split into a grin. “Still sleeping. That girl–”
“Is just like her mama.”
She glanced my way, eyelids fluttering, before turning back to the stove.
“I’ll wake her up as soon as I’m done cooking.”
“I’ll do it.”
She paused.
I cleared my throat. “You start your job today.”
Her eyes widened, then a deep V settled between her eyebrows. “What job?”
“At the library. I called them again.”
“Really?” Her expression turned hopeful.
My hand moved to my chest, covering the tattoo that rested just above my heart, rubbing it. “The position’s still yours if you want it.”
Her hopeful look turned to one of apprehension. “What’s the catch?”
I nodded. “I deserved that.”
“So what is it?”
I gave a one shoulder shrug. “You just need to use your married name, Mrs. Townsend.”
She eyed me. “That’s it?”
“That’s a lot considering you neglected to use it on your application.”
“You know why I did.”
I stood erect. “No, I don’t, actually.”
Her shoulders sank. “Because the name Townsend opens doors everywhere in this city. I wanted the job on my own merit. Something of my own again.” She sighed. “You wouldn’t get it.” She waved the hand holding the spatula in the air, turning back to the stove.
“Iwouldn’t get it? You don’t think I, of all people, understand the weight of my last name.”
She stiffened. “I didn’t mean that, Aaron.”
“Then what did you mean?”
She pushed out a gush of air. “Just that my entire life was flipped upside down within a few weeks. Everything changed and I wanted some sense of normalcy, ofme.”
I moved fully into the kitchen, going to stand over her. “Let me take you to dinner. Tonight.”
She looked up at me, confused. “Where?”
“Buona Sera.”
She grinned as her head dipped. “Not fair. I can’t say no to Italian.”
I lifted her chin with my forefinger. “I know.”
“The kids?”
