“Ah, so you two have met. Good!”
It was Eula, dressed and helped down the steps by her morning physical therapist, leaning against her walker, wearing a pale pink tracksuit and glittery sneakers. Oliver spun around to her in the doorway of the veranda, and her face lit up at the sight of him.
“Good morning, Lala,” he said, rushing over to give her a quick hug. “How did you sleep?”
“You mean once I got to bed after my great-nephew showed up at my door at midnight?”
“It wasn’t midnight,” he said with an eye roll.
“It was almost midnight,” I muttered into my coffee.
He shot me a look, and I minded my own business. Then he told his great-aunt, “I hope you got to sleep.”
“I almost did, but I can’t for the life of me figure outwhymy wonderful nephew is here,” said Eula dramatically, and Icould see where Oliver got the flair. “It couldn’t be for little old me.”
“Of course it is,” he replied, eyebrows furrowing. “Last we spoke you were in a rehab facility, but when I called again yesterday, the nice staff there said that you went home. So imagine my surprise when I show up here, and there’s someone in my cottage, and your assistant tells me you’re announcing your retirement.”
“Juliette’s not her assistant,” I said.
“She’s not?” He glanced over at me, perplexed.
Eula said, “So you thought I was dying.”
“Itdoesseem reasonable,” he argued, crossing his arms over his chest, and glancing away with an embarrassed huff. “I thought something bad had happened.”
She reached out and squeezed his arm reassuringly. “You know I’m too stubborn to go anywhere, and if anythingdidhappen, you would be one of the first to know. You and Cyrus.”
“I know.” He sighed, like he’d heard that before. “Are you doing well, otherwise? How’s the arthritis? What medicines do they have you on? Did you tell the doctor about the pain in your—”
“Hush,” she ordered, slapping him playfully on the arm, “yes, and I’mfine! Healthy as a horse with a broken hip. You’ll worry yourself into the ground if you keep it up.”
“Better me than you,” he replied smartly, and she made a face at him, then turned to me.
“I hope my great-nephew didn’t bother you too much,” she said to me. “He mightlooklike a golden child, but he’s a real terror.”
At which Oliver dramatically pressed his hands over his heart. “Lala, youwoundme! Who else comes to visit you? Who else brings you your favorite potato doughnuts up from Portland?”
She sniffed indignantly. “It’s bribery.”
“It’s because I love you.”
“Well, perhaps that, too,” she amended. “All right, let’s go have a chat. But only if you take me to those potato doughnuts and brew me a lovely cup of tea?”
He shook his head with a grin and told me, “It was lovely to see you again, Sophie. I’m sure I’ll see you around. Maybe we can explore the gardens together.”
Eula’s eyes lit up. “You canflânertogether!” she said with an affected French accent.Flâner—a word I didn’t know. I wondered if it was in Harrie’s journal and made a mental note to check later.
“Lala, I hope you’re not implying something scandalous. We just met after all,” Oliver said, to which I wheezed a rebuke.
“Eula, we’d never—”
“It means to aimlessly wander, to enjoy the views!” Eula said, rolling her eyes. “Gracious. You kids and your euphemisms. My Henry and I used toflânerall the time.”
“You do see how that sounds, right?” Oliver pointed out, and Eula wagged a finger at him in warning, but she was smiling, and he mirrored it with well-worn love. I got the feeling Oliver was the kind of man who liked teasing people, and he was good-looking and polite enough to never feel like a thorn. “I wouldn’t mind a littleflâner-ing.” Then he lifted his playfulgaze to mine, dark caramel warm and inviting, and winked. “Et vous, mademoiselle?”
The sweet warmth of his voice stuck me to my spot, like an insect caught in amber. “I—um,” I fumbled as the tips of my ears began to burn with a blush. I’m sure he could see it. I’m sure that was why his grin widened, his eyes glittered. “Sure,” I forced out, and then, “I have to—garden.”
I felt his gaze as I fled the veranda, hoping that the farther I escaped into the garden, the more I could shake off whatever strange feeling had begun fluttering in my stomach like butterflies.
