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He laughs softly. “Sorry, wasn’t my intention. I’m about to make it up to you, though.”
“Aw, what did you get me as a present?”
“You’re going to see it when you meet Dad. But I meant something else. Guess who will be in San Francisco in two weekends?”
“You’re flying here? Niall, are you serious? Oh my God. Oh my God. Did you tell Dad? I bet he was excited.”
“Didn’t tell him yet.”
“How long are you staying?”
“Just for the weekend. I’m coming to a conference. They invited me as a speaker last minute.”
“Wow. Congratulations.” I do my best to hide how gutted I am that he’ll only be here for such a short time. “Oooh, I just had the best idea. We can move the reopening party of the bookstore to that weekend, so you can be here too.”
“Sure, I have a few hours on Saturday afternoon.”
“Can you stay for dinner too?”
“Nah, have to be with the other conference attendants for dinner.”
“Oh, okay. Would Sunday be better? Or Friday?”
“Schedule’s too tight on those days with the flight and some keynote talks.”
“So, we’ll only see you for a few hours?” I pout like a baby, even though he can’t see me.
“It’s the best I can do. My schedule is insane.”
“A few hours is better than nothing, anyway. So happy to see you.”
“Me too. Have to go, sis. Happy birthday again.”
I grin as the call ends, excited to be seeing my brother in two weeks. It’s been almost nine months since I last saw him, at Mom’s funeral. Today of all days, I miss her fiercely.
Jenna Bennett calls to wish me happy birthday just as I’m getting out of bed, and after talking to her for half an hour, I barely bring myself to end the call. Hour-long talks with her every now and then have become the norm in the past nine months. I’m becoming a stage-one clinger, and I really have to stop while I’m ahead. I’m not a kid, for God’s sake.
But is there an age at which people stop needing their mothers? Their advice, their warmth, their love?
I hop in the shower but stop midway, shampoo still in my hair, when the doorbell rings. Did I order something online and forgot? After rinsing quickly, I step out, fasten a robe around myself, and head to the front door. I peek through the peephole and see a gigantic bouquet of roses.
“Good morning. If you’ll sign here, please,” the deliveryman says when I swing the door open.
I sign the sheet he’s holding, then take the flowers back inside. There are thirty-one of them, and there is an envelope there too. My fingers prickle with excitement as I open it. Inside is a birthday card.
Dear Caroline,
Happy birthday. I have left my credit card at Macy’s—ask for Christa. It’s my gift for you.
Daniel
Holding the card to my chest, I do a happy dance in my living room, grinning ear to ear. Then I reread the card a few times to make sure I’m not imagining it. I can’t believe him. But then again, Daniel always had his own style of doing things. Still, reining in my excitement, I pick up my phone, dialing his number. My insides warm just at the thought of hearing his voice. Other parts warm too, damn it. I pause just before pressing the last digit.
Should we clear the air about what happened that night first? Yeah, right. No way am I bringing it up. It’s too early in the morning to face that level of awkwardness. Biting the inside of my cheek, I resume dialing.
“Morning, birthday girl.”
“Hi!”
