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Brooks pressed his lips together and simmered down but then threw out, “You don’t know anything about me.”
“H . . . How c . . . can I change that?” Tom begged to know.
Brooks ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know.”
Silence creeped in again.
I clapped my hands together. “You know what? I think this was a good start. I’m proud of both of you.”
Brooks and Tom gave me crooked grins.
“Now that we’re done with the awkward first session, I have some important items to discuss with Tom about the reunion.” I directed my attention to Brooks. “And since I know you find reunions distasteful, you can be dismissed.”
Brooks’s eyes widened.
“You’re not going to the reunion?” Tom asked Brooks. “G . . . Gracie’s put s . . . s . . . so much time and effort into it.”
Brooks shifted in his seat.
“Don’t pressure him, Tom.” I patted Tom’s hand. “He and Morgan believe only people who peaked in high school attend them.”
“Non . . . Nonsense,” Tom spouted. “Our G . . . Gracie girl is reaching new heights all the time.”
Brooks let out a heavy breath. “I’m sure she is. That said, some of us don’t feel the need to catch up with people we haven’t seen in twenty years and probably will never see again. And, I’ll be at a conference that weekend anyway.”
“Perfect. More fun for the rest of us, then.” Internally though, I was disappointed there was no chance of him coming. I knew it was a long shot. Yet, somewhere deep down, a tiny shred of hope burned that the old Brooks would appear and see we were meant to be. Then he would sweep me off my feet and give me the night we should have had twenty years ago. I shook off those thoughts and turned my attention back to Tom, expecting Brooks would leave, but he stayed put.
“D . . . did you f . . . find a date yet, darlin’?” Tom asked.
“No. I’m thinking of going alone. Or maybe you and Daddy can escort me.” I winked, trying not to feel like a loser in front of Brooks.
Tom chuckled. “It would be a p . . . pleasure, but you d . . . don’t give up yet. Surely there is a man sm . . . smart enough to make you his g . . . girl.”
I shrugged and tapped on my phone to pull up the table settings the caterer had sent me to choose from. “I need your opinion. The girls,” meaning Colette and Lorelai, “and I can’t decide if we should go with the more elegant theme or something more on the fun side, like this one.” I clicked on the picture showing the centerpiece made from yearbooks that had photo booth picture strips accented with flowers and the year we graduated. “I’m leaning toward this one. I think it shows a personal touch. What do you think?”
Tom’s brow crinkled. He was giving it some serious thought. “Well, d . . . darlin’, I say whatever you choose, it’s going to be p . . . perfect.”
I kissed his head. “You’re no help, but thank you.”
He chuckled. When he laughed, it made it obvious that he was still sick. There was an odd rattle to it, and it was subdued.
I handed him his water. “I think you’ve had enough excitement for the day. How about we read from the Bible and then Twilight? She’s about to meet his parents.”
Brooks stood. “I should probably get going.”
That was probably for the best, I thought. “See you later.”
Tom set his water down and gave his son a timid smile. “It was g . . . good to—”
“Knock, knock, knock, the doctor’s here,” a familiar voice interrupted us. Julian swaggered in wearing scrubs and carrying a vase full of cheerful daisies. How odd.
Brooks must have thought so too since he grimaced at Julian. “What are you doing here?” He dispensed with any pleasantries.
“Wishing Tom well, of course, and looking for you, actually. Morgan said you would probably be here.” Julian didn’t seem at all put off by Brooks’s cold greeting.
Brooks’s pursed lips said he wasn’t buying it.
Julian paid him no attention and turned toward Tom and me. Julian’s eyes lit up when he saw me. “Gracie, you’re here too. What a surprise. It’s so good to see you again.”
“It’s nice to see you too,” I sort of lied, but what else could I say?
Julian set the flowers on the table under the TV. “Tom, you’re looking good after your brush with death. I’m happy to see you pulled through.”
Tom, like Brooks, looked confused as to why Julian was there. Tom squeezed my hand. “Thanks be to G . . . Gracie. I’m a l . . . lucky man.”
