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“And what?”
“She did love it,” he agrees. “But I don’t think that’s all you were thinking about, dear.” He sets his fork and knife down, ignoring his own entrée and settling into his elbows. His glasses rest at the edge of his nose, and begrudgingly, I admit he looks even smarter than normal. “Come on. Let’s have it.”
“I was . . . thinking about Shane.”
He hums at that statement, gratified enough to pick his silverware back up and start eating again. He takes a bite, chews long enough to leave me in great suspense, and then ventures, “She’d like him, you know.”
I try to hide my smile but fail miserably. “Well, of course she would’ve liked him. He’s great . . .” I pause. “He’s . . . uh . . . nice,” I say, instead of the other words that are rolling around inside my brain.
“Nice?” Alfred repeats, unimpressed. “That’s what people say about casseroles. You and I both know that man is more than nice. He’s a darn good-looking fella with a talent for making you smile. Qualities, by the way, I happen to love.”
“Alfred.”
“You’re blushing, Teeny Girl.” He grins, and it’s quite clear he’s enjoying this. That’s good. Someone should be. “I noticed you didn’t stay over last night.”
I sigh. “Yes, Mr. Nosy. I stayed at his place.”
“I figured.” His eyes sparkle. “You should invite him today.”
“To Avalyn’s birthday?”
“Yep.” He nods. “She’d have liked him. Just like I like him.”
I roll my eyes, but I’m already pulling my phone out of my purse before I can stop myself.
Me: What are you up to right now? Are you busy?
There’s only a brief pause, and then the startling shock of Shane’s voice right over my left shoulder.
“Nothing,” he says aloud. “Not busy at all.”
My brows knit, my heart jumps into my throat, and my eyes find Alfred. He shrugs, the old turd. “Okay, so perhaps I already invited him.”
Shoving back from my seat, I stand up and give Shane a hug while he places a kiss on my cheek I feel all the way to my toes.
“How?” I whisper. “How did Alfred even have your phone number?”
Shane smiles against my face, whispering in my ear, “We exchanged numbers while you were in the restroom during Scrabble night. You know, just in case of emergencies.”
He sets me back gently, and I sit back down to admire him while he rounds the table. He looks good—like really good—in a pair of jeans, a white T-shirt, and hair that’s so perfectly messy yet styled it should be illegal and moves to greet Alfred warmly before sitting down beside me and smiling.
My stomach forgets what gravity is.
I can’t believe Alfred pulled off surprising me like this, and even more than that, I can’t believe I’m not upset that he did.
I thought I was off balance before; my whole axis is tilted now. I hardly even understand how my thoughts work anymore. So much so, I spend almost the entire meal silently taking Alfred and Shane in.
I laugh when they make jokes and smile or respond when they talk to me directly, but by and large, I’m merely a spectator to the greatest of sports—my best friend and the guy who has me dreaming up fairy-tale endings getting along.
It’s not long before we’re all finished eating and Shane’s arm rests on the back of my chair, his fingers gently rubbing at my shoulder as Alfred tells us story after story about Avalyn.
“She kept Tootsie Pops in her purse,” Alfred says, laughing. “She’d hand them out like communion to any man, woman, or child she met on the street.” His face beams. “My Avalyn loved her sweets, and she never met a stranger a day in her life. I can still feel the heat in my cheeks every time she’d walk up to a mother with a baby and just pull it out of their arms.” He shakes his head. “Three minutes later, she’d have them sleeping in her arms while the mother broke down in exhausted tears.”
“She sounds amazing,” Shane says.
“She was.” Alfred’s eyes soften. “She was my whole world. I feel damn lucky that I had her to myself for so many years, and just a little angry with the universe for robbing the earth of her so soon.”
After we finish lunch, we drive to a park that’s not too far from Vanderbilt and the shop. It was Avalyn’s favorite park and is largely the reason Alfred stepped inside The Hole Story looking for a coffee the day I opened. Her favorite time to visit was when the hydrangeas were in bloom—they’re waning now but still pretty—but Alfred frequents her favorite shady bench and big oak tree all the time to feel close to her. That day, he saw the grand opening sign on his walk home and stopped to buy himself and Pip a treat.
