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“Why don’t I take us out for dinner?” I suggest, and Livia and her mom both turn, looking at me.
“It… it’s kinda tricky.” Julianne glances down at Connor, and I wish I’d kept my mouth shut. Or at least thought about it first.
“We could order in, though, couldn’t we?” Livia says, and her mom smiles.
“That would be lovely.” She goes to Connor, crouching before him and taking his hand in hers. “Do you feel like pizza?” He nods his head, smiling, and she looks up at me again. “Is pizza okay?”
“Sure, but we can have anything you like.”
She stands, coming closer and lowering her voice. “I know, but it’s best not to give him too many choices… and pizza is easy for him to eat.”
“Okay… pizza it is.”
I pull out my phone, but once it’s unlocked, I hand it straight to Livia to find a local delivery service, and make the selections for everyone. It seems simpler that way, and then she hands it back to me, so I can pay.
“While we’re waiting,” her mom says, sitting back down again, “why don’t you go pack?”
Livia nods her head, taking my hand, and leads me toward the back of the house. I’ll admit, I’m desperate to be alone with her, even if only briefly, but I pull her to an abrupt halt, noticing a room whose walls are lined with books.
“Is this your library?” I say as she looks up at me, smiling.
“Yes.” She pushes the door open fully so we can go inside. “It’s nowhere near as grand as either of yours, but…”
“I like it.” I look around, noting the tidy desk in front of the window, and the couch that faces the bookshelves. “It’s cozy.” I study some of the books, which seem to be mostly about history, and then my eye settles on one with a familiar author. “Your dad wrote this?”
She smiles. “Yeah… he wrote quite a few of them. He was a lecturer in European History.”
“Did this used to be his office?”
“Yeah. It’s Mom’s now…”
Her voice fades, and I pull her into my arms, all too aware of her sadness.
“Are you okay?”
She nods her head and pulls back, taking my hand again. “We should probably go pack.”
I let her lead me from the room again, and down the hall to her bedroom, which makes me smile.
“What’s wrong?” She’s looking up at me and has obviously noticed my expression.
“Nothing… it’s just that I sometimes forget how young you are.”
She glances around the room, smiling herself. “Yeah… my dad decorated it when I was about fifteen and thought pink was the best color in the world.”
It’s not like a pink explosion in here, but there’s no denying it’s very girly.
I stay by the door, while Livia goes further into the room, grabbing her bag from the chair by the window, and putting it on the bed.
“Tell me about your dad,” I say, watching her. “What happened?”
She’s folding a t-shirt and looks up at me. “He was at work, reading through dissertations, when he realized he couldn’t move his right arm.”
“He was having a stroke?”
“Yeah, although he didn’t know that at the time. Fortunately, a student came by, and was able to raise the alarm, otherwise things could have been…” Her voice fades, cracking slightly, and I walk over, turning her to face me and holding her close.
“How old were you?”
