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“Blake is fourteen months. You’ve already heard the extent of his vocabulary.”
Marlow had a dry wit about her. I sensed it was just her style, but it seemed like a deflection too.
“Ella just screams to get her point across,” Baker chimed in. She pressed her lips to her fingers and reached across Holt to touch my daughter’s forehead.
“How do the three of you know one another?” Mr. Dixon asked, directing the question toward Mrs. Quinn.
She fashioned a pleasant expression on her face. Baker tensed, our actions mirroring one another.
“We’re involved with Paths of Purpose, a haven for women and children.”
Baker and I exhaled, though I hoped it was discreet. Mr. Dixon perked up with interest. “I’ve heard of it. That shelter has a stellar reputation, even a fairly new facility if I’m not mistaken.”
“Mrs. Quinn is the director,” I said with pride.
“What meaningful work,” Mr. Dixon said, awe in his voice.
“It’s not work to me,” Mrs. Quinn said. Her humbleness was one of my favorites of her qualities. The way she didn’t take any crap off anyone topped the list.
“You’re very lucky to love what you do.” Mr. Dixon raised his wine glass and clinked with hers. That set off a reaction around the table, the tinkling of glass somehow solidifying this group of people.
“No wine for you?” Andrew asked in my ear as I touched my water glass to his goblet.
I shook my head but didn’t elaborate. His easy acceptance made me relax even further.
The appetizers and pizzas arrived, and we all dug in and helped ourselves. I looked around the table. I’d never had this.Family. At least not until I came to Paths. Growing up, I’d been in an orphanage. Once Mrs. Norris found me, it had only been the two of us. Not a table full of people who loved each other.
“I was afraid you wouldn’t come,” he confessed.
“I do what I say I’m going to do.”
He bristled. “Ouch.”
“That wasn’t a shot, just a fact.”
“I’m usually a man of my word. I don’t make promises I can’t keep,” he said solemnly.
“You don’t owe me anything.”
“Maybe not. But I want you to feel like you can depend on me.”
I’d learned the hard way that, though I wanted to be the only person I needed, that simply wasn’t the case. If it weren’t for others, I’d be dead right now.
“My dad says I need to take it slow with you. But I generally end up ignoring his advice anyway.” He glanced over to his father with admiration. “I’m going to take a piece of what he said. Will you meet me at this spot I know down by the river? There’s a park overlooking the water. I’ll bring dinner. Or lunch. Hell, even breakfast. Whatever you want.”
“Like a date?” I squeaked, and he grinned.
“Exactly like that.”
I grabbed the back of my neck. “I—I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”I’m married, for starters. Technically.
“One way to find out,” he said. His face was open, honest, excited even. I searched for the answer in his eyes despite that it lay within me. Not him. “Think about it. You can let me know after we eat.” He leaned toward me, a conspiratorial upturn of his lips. “That’s me going slow,” he said in a stage whisper.
It took all my effort to keep myself composed. “I’ll think about it.”
“Dad, you are the man,” Andrew said, holding up his fist across the table.
Confusion flitted over his father’s face, but he rolled with it, bumping knuckles with his son.
