Mom nodded. “Yeah. I’ll go down with this in one hand instead.”
“It’s so creamy,” Leah said.
I loved the authoritative air Kyle took on when talking about coffee, as if he were discussing a new species he had discovered in the Amazon. “I’ve been experimenting with homemade nut milks for a while now, and I’ve discovered that cashew takes on the perfect density for lattes. Macadamia does as well, but the flavor combination isn’t as good.”
“Oh!” Leah exclaimed. “White chocolate macadamia!”
Kyle laughed. “It’s in the works.”
Mom took another sip and said, “You know who would love this?”
“Oh, Emerson,” I chimed in.
Kyle cleared his throat, the way he tended to do when he was nervous, and I could have sworn his ears reddened the tiniest bit. Oh my gosh. He had made this for Emerson.
“I’ll have to get her to taste it when she gets back. When will the girls be back?” he asked with forced nonchalance.
“Oh, they’re back.”
He grinned. “Then I’ll take her one right away.”
I felt bad for him, but maybe it was all in my head and I just assumed every man was interested in my daughters. But maybe that wasn’t the case with Kyle. In fact, when I said, “She’s probably at Mark’s,” he didn’t even flinch.
“OK!” Mom said exuberantly. “Kyle, you need to buy something. I’ll ring you up!”
“Mom,” I scolded. I turned to Kyle. “You don’t need to buy anything.”
“Grammy, is this your first sale?”
Kyle’s hair seemed even blacker today, his arms more toned, his jawline more defined. I wasn’t sure it was possible for him to get more handsome, but it seemed he had.
“It certainly will be, darling. I’ve always wanted to work the cash register.” She scrunched her nose. “Well, not this newfangled contraption. But I suppose it will have to do.”
Kyle shook his head. “The cash register in my coffee shop is from 1962. I’d be honored if you would help me out over there for a bit.”
She gasped and put her hand to her mouth. “Well, if you don’t know how to make a lady’s dying wish come true, then I don’t know who does.”
“Mom,” I scolded again. “The girls don’t even know yet.”
“My lips are sealed,” Kyle said.
I looked at my mother. “We have to tell them today.”
Mom waved her hand. “Fine, fine. You’re such a bore sometimes, Ansley.”
Such a bore. I guess I was. But there wasn’t much that was exciting about dying.
Kyle carefully hoisted Mom off the stool and winked at me. “I promise I’ll take good care of her,” he said. “I’ll bring her back before lunch.”
“Mom,” I said, feeling as if I were sending one of my girls off to school again. “Behave.”
She turned and put her hand on her heart, as though she were offended. “Why, don’t I always, darling?”
I shook my head. “No. No, you never do. Which is why I have to say it.”
“Well-behaved women rarely make history,” Kyle whispered.
And then they were on their way, Mom’s arm wrapped around Kyle’s, her other hand on her cane.
