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“Dinner?”
26
Rory
“You look beautiful. I feel like I could say that to you a thousand times over, and it would never stop being true.”
Professor Taylor sure knew how to make a lady blush.
He also knew how to make me feel uncharacteristically warm everywhere.
I wasn’t expectingthisto be our dinner date, though. I’d pictured a fancy restaurant, maybe somewhere a little offbeat.
What he’d chosen was infinitely better.
Sally came bouncing into the living room, a sketchbook in her hands. She’d disappeared after promising to show me her drawing of a bumblebee.
I pulled her up in my arms, marveling at how easily she snuggled up to me. I loved kids. They made everything better. And Sally... she was the sweetest bundle of joy I’d seen.
The picture was done in oil pastels. It was a pretty little drawing of bees flying into a mango tree, building their nest. A little girl stood underneath, looking up at the bees with big blue eyes.
“Is that you?” I pointed to the girl.
She nodded enthusiastically. “I’m waitin’ fow them to fly. Jus’ like Mum said.”
I kissed the top of her curls. She smelled of coconut shampoo and love.
“You are a wonderful painter. I must see more of your work, but after you take your nap, okay?”
She nodded once more. I’d never seen a kid this excited for bedtime. I watched Elijah pick her up and take her inside to her bedroom.
Taking a minute, I looked around. In so many subtle ways, Elijah’s home was an homage to the one who got away.
The walls were painted in muted, soft light creams and pale greens. Every wall barring the north one had large windows. Elijah had left some open for the night’s cool breeze to enter. Sheer curtains embraced the wind, dancing gently.
Every couch and chair was carefully positioned, antique pieces embellished with florals and complete with puffy cushions. The sofa I sat on had a soft knit throw blanket tossed over it. I ran my hands on the surface of the pillowy fabric, smiling absentmindedly.
Yes, everything here, from the potted ferns and succulents, to the ivy on the windowsills and the macramé plant holder, was an homage to Elijah’s past.
He’d made the space so that a child could fall in love with it. It was a haven. The fairy lights draped across a wooden ladder by the north wall were my absolute favorite touch.
By the ladder stood a tall bookshelf, full to the hilt with volume after volume of Enid Blyton and Roald Dahl.
I’d have loved to grow up in a home like this. A home that breathed comfort and security for little souls like Sally’s.
“Hey.” Elijah came back into the room. “Let’s go.”
I got up and followed him past the living room, up a flight of stairs, to a terrace space.
He’d done the sweetest thing imaginable and set up a whole table for us, complete with a vase of roses. Strings of more fairy lights lined the floor, and I had a breathtaking view of the skyline from where we sat.
Nothing, not even a meal at a Michelin Star restaurant, could top this. I mean, that would be pretty nice too—but this? This meant Elijah was opening his heart and home to me.
I’d wondered if this could happen, and if it did, whether I’d freak out. But sitting under a dark blue sky carpeted with stars and a crescent moon, I didn’t feel out of place.
Or frightened.
I didn’t have the urge to kick off my heels and run helter-skelter. And then, I began giggling.
