Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
“Is that okay?” Maddie asked. “Can he pet them?”
“It’s fine. He seems like a sweet kid.”
“He is, thank you.”
“I take it he likes pink.”
“He loves pink,” she confirmed. “Definitely his favorite color. And he’s never met a unicorn he didn’t adore.”
“He’d get along great with my niece Daisy. She’s seven.”
She smiled up at me. “Maybe we can get them together while we’re here.”
“Sure. You’re here for two weeks, right?”
“That’s definitely the longest I could stay. But I’ve got two weeks off from work, yes.”
I forced myself to stop staring at her mouth and studied the muddy toes of my boots. Standing so close to her was making my heart beat faster, and I realized that even though fifteen years had gone by, I still felt something for her.
It was too bad things couldn’t be different for us.
But that was impossible. I had my dad to take care of for the rest of his life, and she had her son to raise. If ever we’d had a chance, we’d missed it.
“You like your job?”
“I really do. It’s a smaller pediatric practice, but I know all the families so well. Most days, it doesn’t even feel like work.”
“That’s great.”
She nodded. “I don’t have a fancy office with M.D. on my nameplate, but I love what I do. It took me a while to see that that’s what matters, you know?”
“I know exactly.”
“Hey, want to come eat lunch at the diner?” Maddie elbowed me. “My treat. I promised Elliott a milkshake.”
“Sure, sounds good. Let me call Enzo real quick,” I said, pulling my phone from my pocket. “The sooner we know what we’re dealing with over there, the better.”
“Perfect.”
I tapped Moretti’s name in my contacts, put the phone to my ear, and waited for him to pick up. That’s when I noticed that Maddie was staring at the maple tree.
“The swing is still there,” she said.
I looked at it for the second time today and saw myself going in for that kiss again. “Yeah.”
She smiled and laughed softly. “Some things never change.”
Enzo said he would meet us at four, which gave us just enough time to peek in the barn and introduce Elliott to the horses before heading into town.
My dad had already eaten lunch, of course, but since he didn’t remember doing it, he was more than happy to come along and eat again. He hadn’t gotten much of a nap in, but he didn’t seem cranky. In fact, he appeared to be enjoying Elliott and Maddie’s company a lot. With any luck, he’d tire out early this evening, and I’d have a few hours of peace before going to bed.
Elliott got a kick out of sitting on the stools at the counter, and my dad had a ball telling stories about coming to the diner when he was young. It was where they hung out after baseball games, he said, and when we were done eating, he took Elliott by the hand and led him over to the wall by the door where faded black-and-white high school team photos were hung.
Pointing his knobby finger at one of them, he said, “Right there. That’s me.”
Elliott looked back and forth between the strapping seventeen-year-old in the photo, wearing a baseball uniform and cap, and the stooped old man next to him. “That’s you?”
“Of course it is.” My father stood a little taller. “Can’t you tell?”
“Absolutely,” Maddie said, moving closer to study the photo. “It looks just like you.” Then she smiled at me over her shoulder, making my blood rush a little quicker. “And just like you.”
“Beckett’s photo is over here.” My dad turned to the opposite wall and pointed to a color photo. “See? There he is.”
“Oh my goodness, look at that!” Maddie squealed, rushing over to it. “I recognize almost everybody. There’s Enzo Moretti and Griffin Dempsey and Cole Mitchell.” She glanced back at me. “Are you still close friends with them?”
I nodded. “And we still play baseball together.”
Her grin widened. “Wow, some things really never change.” Then she turned to the photo again. “Look, Elliott. That’s when Beckett and I were such good friends. I used to go to baseball games and watch him hit lots of home runs.”
“Can you still hit home runs?” Elliott asked me.
“Occasionally,” I said, laughing.
“Can you show me how to do it?”
“We can do a little batting practice while you’re here, sure. You like baseball?”
“Yes,” he said as we headed out onto the sidewalk. “I play tee ball.”
“That’s a good place to start,” I said. “I played tee ball too when I was a kid.”
“But I want to hit a home run without the tee,” he told me, his face concerned. “Can you teach me how?”
“I can definitely try.”
“Good, because I think my dad would like that better. And maybe if I could hit a home run without the tee, he’d come to my games.”