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)
“Good.” She held her mug with both hands. “You?”
“Good. Too good.” I poured myself half a cup, which was all I had time for. “Elliott awake yet?”
“Yes. He’s getting dressed.”
“Okay.” I took a quick sip. “I’m gonna get started because I’m behind and we’ve got church at nine, but send him out to the barn as soon as he’s ready.”
“You go to church?” she asked, her voice rising steeply.
I cocked a brow. “You sound surprised. Should I be offended?”
“No,” she said, laughing a little. “I just don’t remember you attending church back in high school.”
“I think I skipped out a lot back then. My dad and sisters always went.” I took two more swallows of hot coffee and set down the cup. “I’m not particularly religious, but Dad likes to go, and it’s an outing I can handle—I like the ones that have a definite start and end time.”
She nodded. “I get it. We’ll go with you.”
“You don’t have to,” I said, heading for the mudroom.
“I want to.” She followed me and stood in the doorway while I put my boots on. “If that’s okay.”
“Of course it’s okay. After that, I’ve got some work to do around here, but Mallory is coming to spend the afternoon with Dad, so we can get started with the yard cleanup at your mom’s.”
“That sounds great. I’ll get breakfast going and send Elliott out to help you as soon as he comes down. Do you like oatmeal?”
Backing up toward the door, I grinned at her. “This morning, I like everything.”
What Maddie called oatmeal turned out to be a mouth-watering concoction with apples and raspberries and pecans baked in the oven and drizzled with maple syrup.
“Elliott, that’s enough with the syrup.” Maddie’s voice was stern.
Her son giggled and continued to drown his breakfast. “But I like maple syrup. It’s one of the four main food groups.”
I smiled at him over the top of my coffee mug. “My nieces and nephews love Elf.”
“So does Elliott,” Maddie said, shaking her head as her son licked his fingers. “They played it at a theater near us around the holidays, and I took him to see it. For weeks he begged to put syrup on his pasta.”
“We should go to the movies,” my dad announced.
Maddie smiled across the table at him. “Yesterday, we poked our heads into the theater on Main Street, remember? You told me the story about seeing Vertigo there. You said your date looked just like Kim Novak.”
“She did.” He looked smug. “She was the prettiest girl at school. Her name was Evie Clemson and she wore a red sweater.”
I stared at him. It was amazing to me the way his memory worked. He could tell you what his date was wearing to the movies in 1958 but in an hour, he wouldn’t be able to tell you he’d had oatmeal for breakfast.
“I wonder what happened to her,” Maddie said.
“She went away to college.” My dad looked thoughtful as he ate a bite of his breakfast. “I don’t know what happened to her after that. She never came back. But she used to come to all my baseball games.”
“Speaking of games, when is your next baseball game?” Maddie asked me. “I hope I can catch one while I’m here.”
“The first one is next Thursday night.”
Her face lit up. “Oh good, I’ll still be here!”
“Can we play baseball again today?” asked Elliott.
“Probably not today, buddy,” I told him. “Too much work to do.”
“Okay.” Elliott looked sad, and I remembered what it was like to be his age, waiting for my dad to be done with work so we could play ball.
“Maybe we can fit in some batting practice before dinner,” I said. “But that means I’ll definitely need your help today with some chores.”
He sat taller in his chair. “I can help with chores.”
We finished breakfast quickly and left the dishes in the sink, hurrying to our rooms to change so we’d get out the door on time for the nine o’clock service. At eight-thirty, I was waiting for everyone in the mudroom when Maddie came around the corner.
“Listen, if you don’t have time for baseball today, it’s okay,” she said, slipping an earring through her earlobe. “I know how busy you are.”
“I’d love to play ball with Elliott again.” I was having a hard time keeping my eyes where they belonged. She’d put on a flowered sundress that showed off her narrow waist and scooped at the neck.
“You’re staring at my cleavage.” She put a hand over her chest and whispered, “Is this dress too low-cut for church?”
“No.” I met her eyes. “You look beautiful, and it’s fine for church. I’m just an asshole.”
“You’re not. And if we weren’t going to church, I’d love your eyes on me that way. It’s been a long time since someone has looked at me like . . .” Her expressive mouth curled into a smile. “Like a bull in a china shop who wants to smash everything.”