AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Mhmm. I had a date.” Her smug tone was loud in the quiet house, but she had to be when speaking with her hard-of-hearing grandfather. Now dressed in leggings, a jumper two sizes too big, and the thickest pair of socks she could find, Adelaide was toasty warm—a nice change from the chill in the frosty air-conditioning of the casino—and still high from the giddy excitement of meeting a man she’d clicked with. “We talked all night, Pop. He’s so lovely.”
“Is talking a euphemism?” Her grandfather eyed her with a raised eyebrow as Adelaide took a sip of her hot tea. He popped the lid off the plastic container with unsteady hands while Adelaide jiggled the teabag of Earl Grey in the delicate cup her nan had used when she was alive. Pop had been drinking from it since she passed, a testament to his love for her. He was a creature of habit, eating the same breakfast every day too—a slice of toast with barely a scrape of margarine and enough marmalade to keep an entire citrus grove in business. Adelaide cringed at the fragrance of the tea before her and carried the cup and saucer over to the table.
Looking over her shoulder, she feigned offence at Pop’s question. “No! We only met last night.” She knew he wasn’t judging—no one in her family ever did. It was something Adelaide was so proud of. Her mum had raised her and Eli to say what they thought without beating around the bush. Mum had learned from the best. As he’d gotten older, Pop was even more forthright with his opinions. He was downright blunt now, not giving a fuck what was considered proper, and only now, at seventy-eight was starting to slow down. Progressive hearing loss had hit him hard, and the slight shake in his hands was a sign of how he was becoming frailer as the years went on.
“Where did you go?” Pop asked, and Adelaide’s weary mind stalled, confused. She blinked, thinking back to their conversation when it clicked.
With a yawn, Adelaide said, “To the gallery of all places. They set up speed dating there and Kingston attended too.” She watched, ready to jump in and help as Pop carried the plate of toast to his chair. When he was seated, she added, “You should go to the gallery. You’d love it.”
"Don’t try to change the subject, young miss.” Her pop pointed the triangle of thickly topped toast at her and narrowed his eyes as Adelaide waited desperately for the caffeine to kick in. “I want details of this man who kept you out all night to know whether I need to kick his arse.”
She laughed, wrapping her hands around the warm mug. Her pop’s body may slowly be failing, but his mind was as sharp as ever. “There will be no arse-kicking.” She raised her eyebrows, staring Pop down until he chuckled before she continued, “His name is Kingston. He’s thirty… um, a high school maths teacher, and seems really sweet. He’s super easy to talk to and he has his life put together, you know? He’s got a nerdy professor vibe going on and it totally suits him.”
Pop nodded slowly as he stirred a spoonful of honey into his tea. “Mhmm. And is he a good kisser?”
Adelaide’s cheeks burned, and she hid the flush behind her mug as she raised it to her lips. The almost kiss they’d had at the gallery had electrified her, leaving her jonesing for more. Kingston had delivered in spades, despite keeping their goodbye kiss as chaste as it could be.
Pop chuckled. “That good, huh?”
“It was barely a brush of his lips, but oh my God, Pop. He had me spinning like a merry-go-round.”
“When are you seeing him next?”
The high she’d been on dimmed a little. He’d said the three words that always spelled doom—I’ll call you—then shut her door. He’d made the effort to walk her to the car and refused to leave until she had the doors locked. That had to count as a positive, but Kingston’s words were almost at complete odds. Adelaide couldn’t help her disappointment at the way it had ended their evening. “We didn’t set anything in stone. I suppose he’ll call me if he wants to see me again,” she said quietly with a shrug that had failed miserably to hide her disappointment.
“Or you could call him. It’s not the 1920s, love,” he said pointedly.
“I know, but I’d really like him to call.” She absently ran her finger around the rim of the mug. Looking up, Adelaide asked, “I don’t want to feel like he only said yes because I called. Is that pathetic?”
“No.” Pop shook his head and laid a warm hand on hers, squeezing it. “No, it’s not. It’s okay to want to be romanced, but remember that you aren’t a shrinking violet. You’re a capable young woman. You know how to speak up for what you want. If you like him…”
She nodded, mulling over Pop’s words. He was right. Adelaide wanted him to call, but she wasn’t going to sit around pining for him like she’d done with Liam. If he didn’t call, she’d do it. The worst that could happen was a no. “You’re right. I’ll do it.” Adelaide stood and kissed Pop on his temple before making Vegemite toast for herself.
She’d barely finished half her breakfast when her phone, charging on the kitchen bench, vibrated with a message. Jumping out of the chair, she saw the screen and her insides swooped like a magpie in spring. “It’s him,” she said excitedly.
I had a great time last night and this morning.
I’d love to see you again.
He was too sweet. Adelaide responded, resisting the urge to squeal.I had a great time too. I have a few parties this week and the game on Fri, but I’m free next Sat if you are?
Three dots appeared below the message then disappeared. Reappeared and disappeared again. What was he writing? Finally, a message came through.There’s a band playing at the night markets next Saturday. My students told me last week that they’re great. Would you like to go?
A moment later a rush of messages came through. Oh. My. God. I sound old.
My students?
I mean, they probably get out more than I do…
But taking recommendations from teenagers shouldn’t be a thing when you’re 30, right? Damn.
You’re young though so I thought maybe you might like it too.
That sounded just as bad.
Going out on a limb here to say you’re currently blocking my number.
Adelaide snorted out a laugh and dialled his number. He was too funny when he was nervous.
