I caught it midair and took a bite from it.
She gave me a flirty smile. “I love those pajamas.”
“So do I,” I lied.
“Have fun, kids.” Ella’s mom gave me a knowing smile as I escorted Ella outside to where a cab was waiting for us.
When we got inside the car, she rattled off some directions in French, and I just sat back and soaked in this beautiful, intelligent, compassionate woman before me. As weird as it was, I thought of Scarlett at that moment and how much she would have loved Ella. If she could have hand-picked a woman for me, it would be her.
Scarlett and I had a lot of tough conversations in the end, but she was clear. She wanted me to move on, to love. The woman just couldn’t be a better cook than she was. I smiled at the memory. Of my loving, selfless late wife, knowing I would live decades beyond her and caring about my happiness in the midst of her darkest hour.
“What are you thinking about right now?” Ella caught me off guard.
I swallowed hard, offering the truth. “About how much Scarlett would have liked you and approved of you.” I prayed that wouldn’t weird her out.
She smiled hugely. “James would have liked you, too.”
It must have been the right thing to say, because she slipped her hand into mine like it was no big deal, and my heart pounded in my chest.
When the cab pulled up to a bustling street, Ella slipped her hand out of mine and moved to pay him. I pushed her credit card down and gave him my own.
“Over my dead body will you ever pay for anything in my presence,” I told her. I was old-fashioned like that.
“Well, in that case, let’s go to the Luis Vuitton store,” she joked with a laugh.
If she wanted fancy purses, I’d buy her one, but I knew Ella better than that.
We stepped out onto the curb, and I watched in amazement over the next half hour as Ella spoke French to our waiter and translated the menu for me. She had really soaked up this experience in Paris and learned a whole new language! I was so impressed, but not as impressed as I was when I saw what she did next when the food arrived.
She reached her hands out to me. “Shall I say grace?” she asked.
I smiled, barely recognizing the woman who’d once ripped my Bible verse up and slammed it onto my chest.
“Please.” I loved that she was willing to pray out loud in the middle of a busy restaurant.
We bowed our heads.
“Lord, thank You for this wonderful meal and this even more wonderful company.” She squeezed my hands. “I pray that You would guide Seth and me in all things and that we would do Your will always and glorify You. Lord, protect us, and we love You. Amen.”
“Amen,” I agreed, looking up at her with a smile.
“What?” she asked, digging into her mashed potatoes.
I’m in love with you,I wanted to blurt out. “You’re amazing,” I said instead.
“You like Parisian Ella?” she asked while batting her eyelashes playfully.
“I like ‘Idaho chicken pajamas’ Ella, too, I just… You seem happy. Healed. I like that,” I told her, and she nodded.
“I am.”
We enjoyed our meal, laughing and talking like no time at all had passed between us, and afterward, Ella took me on a walk around the city. She pointed out different spots like her favorite café and the library she took the twins to for story hour, and then eventually, we made our way to the park. The sun was setting as we strolled through the park, and Ella spoke animatedly about how much she loved it. I couldn’t stop staring at her. She was like a completely different person. Well, that wasn’t fair. She was the same, just so much more vibrant and embracing life. It made me realize how much she’d been through, and I was proud of her.
We crested a hill, and she rushed underneath a giant willow tree, touching the bark.
“This is my favorite tree in all of Paris,” she told me, staring at the tree with a reverence that made me think she’d had some serious times under its branches.
“Hello, tree. I’m Seth,” I told it and reached out to touch its bark.
