“I’m moving to Huckleberry Hill.”
I blinked. “Excuse me?”
“I’m moving to Huckleberry Hill,” he repeated.
“But,why?”
“What do you mean why?” He frowned. “You’re here.”
“Yes.”
“And you’re having a baby.”
“But teaching? You love to teach.”
“The high school needs a substitute history teacher.” He shrugged. “Seems my credentials are enough to satisfy them.”
“I left the Ridge last night at nine p.m. It’s seven-thirty in the morning, and you already have a job offer?”
“Small towns. Nothing like ’em.”
“Your car,” I said.
“I can have it put on a hot shot truck and on the road in a few days.”
“Are you selling the house in Bay Ridge?”
“No. The guest professor is going to take over my class schedule in the spring. He’ll rent the house. It’s all taken care of.”
“Where are you going to live?” I asked.
“I’ll move in with you,” he said easily.
My jaw dropped.
“Gotcha.” He grinned.
“Wow, are you hiding a pair of horns?” I asked with a chuckle.
“There’s a house in town for rent a few blocks from your apartment. Cute little place.”
“You’ve thought of everything,” I murmured. “And you didn’t want to discuss this with me first?”
“Like you discussed your major life changes with me?”
I sighed. “Call it even?”
He laughed. “Call it even.”
The barista delivered our drinks. I thanked her and then turned back to my grandfather.
He peered at the mountain of whipped cream on his drink. “What is this?”
“They made it up for Hadley when she stopped drinking coffee. They put it on a secret menu for those in-the-know.”
He lifted the mug and licked a dollop. “You’re in-the-know around here, are you?”
“Apparently,” I said. “You’re really moving here.”
