I glance down and find him tickling her. I shake my head. “What’s up?” I ask him.
“I was going to see if you ladies wanted to join me for brunch,” he says, peeking back out with a bashful look on his face.
I roll my eyes. “Of course we want brunch. Don’t we, Ava?” I say with a grin and a shake of my head. “Just…let me change…alone,” I add as I leave, giving him a smirk over my shoulder.
His eyes don’t leave mine until I turn to walk away, breaking our contact. What’s up with him today?
With another shake of my head, I find a cute sundress and sandals and put them on while contemplating what just happened.
By the time I’ve pulled my hair into a messy bun and popped some sunglasses on my head, I’ve talked myself into believing that it was no big deal and I’m overreacting.
“I’m ready,” I say as I walk back out to find Ava dressed and ready to go.
She’s on Bray’s hip and he’s pointing out the window. He turns to me, and for a spilt second my heart melts. God, why does he have to be so good to us? He’s everything I could want in a partner, but it’s been over three years now and he’s never once shown interest in me. We are so far into the friend zone, I don’t see how we’d ever be anything more.
“Let’s go, Peanut. French toast awaits,” he says as he bounces her just like he’s done since she was three years old.
She giggles, and he sets her down. We make eye contact again, and I blush as I turn to go get my purse. What the hell is happening today?
I decide mimosas will cure whatever my issue is.
We walk down the street and around the block to a little bistro that has brunch on Saturdays. We’ve been here nearly twice a month for the last two years. It’s one of my few splurges, although the kids' menu is cheap and half the time Bray pays on his way back from the bathroom. I like to pretend I’m annoyed, but it is nice of him and I do truly appreciate it. The waitress, whom we know, waves and motions to a free table.
Bray pulls out chairs for us, and we sit. He’s always such a gentleman. I met his family a few years ago and his dad does the same for his mother. I thought it was adorable. I remember sitting at the table while we ate, watching them and wondering what it would be like to be in love and old.
By the time my parents were older, my mom was already suffering from the early signs of dementia and then my dad got dementia. I don’t go to see them as much as I used to. I know I should, but it’s just too hard to see them like that. It takes me a day or two to recover from it after each visit.
Bray’s hand grabs my thigh under the table and I turn to look at him.
“Everything good?” he asks, his eyes search mine. I swear this man is a mind reader. He always knows when I’m upset or sad.
“Fine. Just thinking about my parents,” I admit.
He squeezes my thigh. “How are they?”
Shrugging, I look at the menu as if I will have something different than my usual order of waffles with strawberries and whipped cream and a side of bacon.
“They’re the same. Anne went out a week ago. No changes,” I say as I set the menu down.
“Mimosa, black coffee, and an orange juice?” the waitress asks as she walks by our table.
“Yes, please,” Bray says. He looks at me, and I know he wants to know if our order is the same. I nod. “And we’ll have our usual.”
“French toast with the works, waffles with strawberries and whipped cream, two sides of bacon, and a western omelet with hash browns?” she asks.
“Yep,” I answer, and she gives me a smile and a wink before heading toward the kitchen.
Ava is already busy coloring on the paper that covers the table. One of the many perks of this place. It’s kid-friendly.
“So, are you ready for our adventure?” Bray asks.
“I think so. Ava’s already packed,” I answer with a laugh.
Ava looks up at us. “I didn’t want to forget anything,” she protests.
Bray gives her a warm smile. “That was very smart of you, Peanut.”
She beams under the compliment and goes back to color rainbows and butterflies.
