“Do you feel at home when you go to the Morales’s house?” I ask, hoping somewhere is home for him.
I can tell by his smile he does. “Definitely. I don’t knock or call before. It’s the house where anytime you show up, you’re welcome with open arms.”
“I’m glad you had them.” Then I think of something. “Isn’t it crazy how big this city is? We’ve lived ten blocks or less apart, including your new home, our whole lives, and we never even knew it.”
“Juliette.”
“What?” I shoot my eyes to his when I hear the odd tone of his voice.
He laughs, not in a ha-ha way. “There’s also another very good reason we didn’t run into each other.”
“I’m not catching your drift.”
He rubs his hand over his forehead and shakes his head like he can’t believe it. “When you were born, I was starting high school.”
“What?” My eyes widen. “Oh my god.” I throw my head back and laugh. “When you put it like that, it sounds creepy as hell.”
“Please don’t remind me.” I can’t stop giggling, and he can’t stop shaking his head. “Let’s go, we’re here.”
I’m not sure if it’s because it’s a small, intimate restaurant, or he doesn’t care, but Harrison’s holding my hand over the table, and he has been for over an hour now as we’ve chatted away.
He even tried tofight me on it when I pulled away to eat.
I won.
“You know, you’ve told me about your dad tonight. But I just realized I know him as Dad. What’s his name?”
I grin ear to ear, thinking of Dad again.
Harrison has asked me questions all night to get to know me better, from my favorite flower to how I take my coffee. I didn’t have an answer to this since I mostly drink green and herbal tea. Mostimportantly, he’s taken a genuine interest in my dad.
“He was named after his great-grandfather, Reginald Nelson. He hated them both, so he went by Reggie.”
“Typical old money name.”
I take a sip of my Diet Coke. “You would know.” I look at him wide-eyed, wondering if he’s kidding with that statement.
“Yes, but not like the Archibald family?—”
“Shh!” I cut him off. The Upper East Side is big, but when you don’t want people to hear or see, they somehow always do. “Tell me what you do for fun. I know you said you were a bad kid, always getting into trouble with Sebastian, but what do you do for fun now.”
He sips his wine, which I forced him to order. Why should he have to suffer if I’m the one who can’t wake up at four and handle one ounce of alcohol?
“Honestly, my life revolves around Claud. We take a lot of walks in the park, similar to you. There’s a lot, and I mean a lot of ballet talk, and now baking is a hot topic.” He rolls his eyes, but I can tell he loves it.
He would do anything to make her happy.
“What if she’s away with Leo or one of the other brothers for a week?”
“I keep myself busy. I catch up on work. I make dinner plans with people I haven’t seen in a while, and in the summer especially, I play a shit ton of golf, but mostly sit and miss Claud. That sounds pathetic, but she’s an extension of me.”
“You’re a good dad.” I smile. He reminds me so much of mine.
He takes another sip. “I hope so. I try my best.”
“From what I’ve seen, from her both in and out of baking class, she’s well-mannered and sweet to everyone. She genuinely cares for others. I think you’re doing an amazing job raising her.”
Every cell in my body is screaming to ask about her mom, but I know in my gut that if I do, the night will be ruined.
