Placing my mug in the microwave to heat back up, I don’t bother turning to look at him when I play along. “What?”
“Things are shaping up nicely.”
Is he referring to some article in the paper he’s holding? “What’s shaping up nicely.”
“You and my future son-in-law.” He sighs. “It’ll be nice having someone around who can mow my lawn.”
I giggle. It can’t be helped.
“I wonder how he feels about heights. The roof needs some attention.”
“What about Bobby?” I ask. Dad knows heights are a no-go for me.
He scoffs. “Yeah, right. He’d fall and break his neck. Then where would we be?”
True.
“Next time you talk, ask him about heights, would you?”
Sipping my steaming hot cup of joe, I nod. “Sure, Dad.” In reality, I’ll do no such thing.
“I see what you did there, Muffin. It’s okay. I can call him and ask him myself.”
“You have his number?”
“No, but I can get it. Annabelle.”
Oh boy. “Dad, please don’t.”
He chuckles, drains his cup, then passes it to me to refill it. “Don’t worry. I won’t embarrass you.” He winks. “Too much.”
I know he’s kidding. He wouldn’t….
Would he?
ChapterThirty-One
Alec
I check my watch again.Her plane landed twenty minutes ago. Why does it take them so fucking long to deplane?
I’m standing with a group of people probably waiting for passengers on the same flight. In my hand? A dozen pink and yellow roses. Very much alive and thriving, thank you very much. A few people have made their way past all the security checkpoints, which means she should be here any time now.
I swear, eighty people have passed me before I see a head of red, curly hair. When she emerges from the throng, I quickly scan her from head to toe and smile. She’s wearing denim overalls. Beneath those is a multicolored, long-sleeve tee of some kind, and a pair of yellow Converse sneakers. My eyes travel back up to her face. God, she’s pretty. Her hair is a bit of a jumbled mess, making it look like she had a rough go of it this morning.
She’s pulling a small, black suitcase that’s just big enough to fit in the overhead compartment. When she spots me, I make sure the smile is still plastered on my face because she’s frowning. I weave in and around people until I get to her. When I’m standing a foot from her, I say, “Welcome to Texas, Matilda.” My fingers inch to hug her, but I choose to keep my distance, especially since her eyes are as big as saucers. Too much too soon, maybe.
She sighs, and it sounds like relief. “I did it.”
I’m not sure what she means, so I go with it. “You did.” Except I’m curious. “What did you do?”
“I flew on an airplane.”
“You’ve never flown before?” Shit, I wish she’d told me.
“I was scared out of my mind, but I didn’t want to tell anyone. I knew I could do it.”
“And you did.” As I hold out the flowers, she stares down at them and smiles.
