Her heart pounded. It had been a long time since she’d gone on a date that had absolutely no work strings attached.
Chapter
Nineteen
The offices of Barron, Winters & Wall were closed on Memorial Day, giving everyone a long weekend to decompress. Even the yoga center was closed, so Whitney had nowhere to be this Monday morning.
Yesterday, Whitney had spent the whole day with all the female relatives who came in a couple of days early for the family Memorial Day celebration. Mom had treated them all to pedicures and facials at her favorite salon that had opened on Sunday especially for them. She’d even sprung for matching monogrammed robes for everyone, from Chloe at age two to G-Maw at ninety-three. Having little Chloe at the salon with them had been so much fun. She wasn’t a fan of getting her toenails painted, but she’d grow into that. She’d kicked and screamed until finally Carina gave up and let her play on the floor with her stuffed sloth in between snuggles with everyone in the room.
Mom had gone to a lot of trouble for the get-together, even catering a lovely lunch for everyone, including the gals working in the salon.
Whitney couldn’t imagine how much time her mother had put into making the photo albums for each of them. She’dhandpicked pictures for each of them so everyone’s memory book was different.
It had been nice to walk around in the plush robes all day and get pampered. The childhood stories and reflection on simpler times seemed to go on for a long time. It wasn’t all that often they all got together, and those pictures had generated a lot of conversation.
It had been a long day, and she’d gone to bed early, but her body didn’t know what to do, not going to the office today.
She wasn’t the type to sit still, but there also wasn’t enough time to really do anything before heading over to Carina’s for the celebration.
Whitney got dressed and slipped her feet into a pair of sandals. Her freshly painted magenta toes looked so pretty.
She went into the kitchen and fixed a bowl of yogurt with a sprinkle of granola on top. Carrying it to the living room, she sat on the couch and took a bite while staring out the window. Her condo was great, but it sure didn’t have the view that Matthew’s had. It had honestly never seemed important before.
Suddenly, she was looking at things through a whole new lens.
But it was more than that. She was doing a lot of thinking about Matthew.
Imagining breakfast on the rooftop patio of the Harper Building with Matthew, she closed her eyes, thinking of how the warm sun would touch her face as she looked out across the city. She could picture spending time with him there. Day or night.
Whitney ate her breakfast and began looking through the album.
She ran her fingers across the tooled leather cover. Mom had gone to the effort to pick something she knew Whitney would like. Nothing smelled better than new leather.
She opened to the first pictures, smiling at how young they’d all once been. Despite time or distance, the love her extended family carried for one another was special. Kindness drove their relationships and traditions. She had a feeling the spa day was going to become a welcome tradition from now on too.
The annual Memorial Day party always brought the family back together.
Whitney flipped past rows of school pictures. You’d think they’d try harder with those poses since you were stuck with them your whole life. A few pages were from summers she’d spent with her Uncle Blake and even a few of him in his younger years. The farm. The horses and pastures. Those memories felt like a favorite sweater. Comforting and soft. She remembered the exact moment they had taken the picture of her and her uncle next to the bay quarter horse. Their smiles were full of mischief. There was no telling what they’d been up to that day. She’d always felt closer to him than anyone.
She took that photo from the album and set it aside to find a frame for it.
The next photograph was of her hugging a horse. Uncle Blake didn’t have that horse for long. Maybe this memory was why Matthew’s painting of the girl with the horse had touched her so deeply.It’s like you’ve always known me, Matthew.
She’d lost track of time as she sat there looking through the old photographs, and she still had to make the potato salad for the party this afternoon. Everyone loved her recipe because she used three kinds of potatoes: red, gold, and sweet potatoes. She knew how to make it by heart, but it took a long time to prepare, which meant she better get to work.
She got up and loaded the potatoes into the sink to scrub them then put them in a big bowl; she went to sit in the chair next to the window to peel them while she watched people gather for the parade on the street below.
A few determined families had already claimed their spaces, which seemed a little crazy to her because it was already so hot and muggy. Kids ran off some energy, doing circles on the sidewalk while the parents sat waiting.
The police had barricaded the side streets hours ago. She was used to the drill. If she needed to leave before the parade ended, she would’ve had to leave before now.
She got up and turned on the stove, setting her biggest pot astride the middle burner. She cubed the potatoes in nice, uniform pieces and got them going, setting the timer on her phone in case she got distracted while watching the parade.
The thumpity-thump of a bass drum beckoned her back to the window.
She skipped the chair and stood right in the window frame, tip-toeing to see down the street. Even after all these years, she loved a parade.
The music got louder.
