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“You hardly know her,” Larry points out. “What happens when she spends too much money on one of those shopping sprees she enjoys?”

“With all due respect, sir, your daughter is incredibly successful. She can buy whatever she wants, whenever she wants.”

“Not a very responsible way of thinking for a financial planner,” Larry says.

“Noel doesn’t give the impression of an irresponsible woman. She owns her home, has a nice car, a successful business. She takes care of things, and I don’t need to see her bank balance to know that. I’m also successful, and not that she would need me to, but I’ll always take care of my family, Mr. Thompson.”

“I like you,” Jase says, leaning back in his seat with a grin. “Our little Noel finally met her match.”

“Your little Noel?”

“I’ve known her since she was a kid,” he says. “And I can tell you, she’s never met anyone as good for her as you are.”

“That we know of,” Larry says and sighs. “I’m being difficult. I like you, too. But she’s my baby, and I’m going to just say, here and now, that if you hurt her, I’ll hurt you.”

“Understood,” I say immediately. “I have a daughter, sir. I’m not here to hurt anyone. I’m here because I can’t stay away from Noel.”

“Dinner’s ready,” Joy calls as she and Noel begin setting platters and bowls on the table, bustling in and out of the kitchen.

“And now that you’ve drilled poor Reed, we’re going to drill you about your date last night,” Noel adds with a satisfied grin as she helps Piper get settled at the table, dishing up her plate.

In a matter of days, she’s become as easy and comfortable with Piper as I am.

“Now, there’s no need to go into that,” Larry says.

“Oh, there’s every need,” Joy says as she takes a seat. “Tell us everything.”Chapter Eight~Noel~“Dad, we want to know everything,” I inform my father before eating a bite of lemon chicken. This whole visit has been disconcerting. Not only did I introduce Reed and Piper to my family, but as I gaze around the house, I see that Dad has started to clear some of our mom’s things away.

After she passed, he left everything exactly the way it was. There was even a dust rag on the mantel. He refused to change anything.

But the dust rag is now gone, and he bought new kitchen towels. It doesn’t sound like a big thing, but for our dad, it’s huge.

“Her name is Martha, and I met her at the senior center. She kicked my ass at poker.”

Joy and I share a glance and then laugh. Mom always hated when Dad went out for poker night.

Now he’s met a woman that can beat him!

“And how did the date go?” Jase asks.

“Fairly well, I suppose. I haven’t been out on a date in forty years.” He sighs and sets his fork down. “Now, I don’t want you girls to think that I’m trying to replace your mother or anything like that.”

“Dad,” Joy says, reaching over to pat his shoulder, “we’re all adults here. Trust me, we know how much you love and miss Mom. Replacing her isn’t what this is.”

“It’s just nice to have a conversation with someone who answers me,” Dad says with a grin. “Nancy’s a good listener, but not a great conversationalist.”

“I’m happy for you, Dad,” I say. “When do we get to meet her?”

“Well, I guess Sunday dinners are for introducing new people,” Dad says, smiling at Reed. “How about next Sunday?”

“I’m on call,” Joy says, a frown turning down her lips. “We can plan it, but if there’s an emergency at the clinic, I’ll have to duck out.”

“We can do it in two weeks, then,” Dad says and nods.

“Can I come?” Piper asks, speaking for the first time. She’s been watching us with wide, brown eyes, soaking in the conversation.

“Well, I sure hope you will,” Dad says. “I’ll need someone to protect me from these two.”

He points to Joy and me, and Piper giggles.

“I’m just a little girl!”

Reed reaches for my hand under the table and gives it a squeeze. I was so nervous about bringing them today, but they’re both fitting in as if they’ve been coming to family dinners for years.

I can’t help but wonder when the other shoe will drop. Is this too good to be true?* * * *It’s Wednesday afternoon, and I haven’t seen Reed since Sunday evening. Since I took the past few weekends off, and because I squeezed Reed’s project into my schedule, I’m now chained to my desk, buried in work.

Ali’s been working late with me. I think I can almost see the light at the end of this tunnel. Finally.

“Hey, Noel, your four o’clock is here,” Ali says, poking her head in my office.

“Great, thanks.”

Alex Fisher and I go way back. He lived in our neighborhood growing up, and we played together almost every day. He’s like a brother to me.

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