Page 87 of This Time Around
Paige came bounding out of the powder room, and Allie breathed a sigh of relief.
“Hey!” Wade offered her a high five, which Paige returned with a hearty smack. “How’s my favorite oenophile?”
Paige giggled and twisted her braid between her fingers. “Is an oenophile someone who knows a lot about birds?”
“No, but you’re close,” Wade said. “A bird expert is an ornithologist. An oenophile knows about wine.”
“Oh.” Paige looked thoughtful. “I’ve been learning about birds in my new school and grandma bought me this really cool bird book.”
“Excellent!” Wade replied. “Hey, Albatross—here’s who you need to consult about your woodpecker problem.”
Paige crinkled her nose and looked at Allie. “Albatross?”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s Wade’s nickname for me. Allie Ross the Albatross.”
“The bird who’d rather fly alone,” Wade said, and Allie watched his gaze slide knowingly between her and Jack.
“I haven’t learned about that kind of bird yet,” Paige said. “I’ll look them up in my book. But I’m pretty sure woodpeckers are in there. Do you know what kind?”
Allie shook her head. “I’m not sure, but I know they’re destroying this house.”
“Really?” Paige’s eyes widened, and it occurred to Allie that she was being a touch dramatic in her description of the situation.
“Well, not destroying, exactly,” she amended. “They’re making a lot of holes. And big messes. And loud noises.”
Paige frowned. “You should find out what kind they are. I can bring my book if you want.”
“That would be great,” Allie said. “I guess I didn’t even think about there being a lot of different kinds of woodpeckers.”
Jack put a hand on his daughter’s back, and the pride in his expression was almost enough to mask the darkness that had flitted across his face moments before. “You girls ready to get going?”
Paige grinned. “Yep. Want me to drive?”
“Ha!” Allie said, grabbing her keys off the little hook in the hallway. “Maybe in about six years.”
“Deal!” Paige said, and Allie wondered what the odds were they’d still be in each other’s lives then. Not wanting to dwell on that, she turned to Jack. “How about I bring her back to your house around six?”
“That sounds good. I’ve got some errands to run anyway. Why don’t you just text me when you’re leaving the mall?”
“I can do that.”
“By the way, my mom asked if you could stay for dinner.”
“Oh,” Allie said. “Well, I don’t want to impose?—”
“Please stay!” Paige grabbed her hand. “She’s making paper salmon, and that’s the best.”
“That’s salmon en papillote to fancy people,” Jack said, and for a moment Allie wondered if he was setting her apart on purpose. Fancy snobs like Allie and her ilk, versus regular folk like them. But it was silly to read that much into such a simple comment.
“That sounds nice,” Allie said, not committing one way or the other.
“You can have wine, too,” Paige added, grinning at her father. “What kind, Daddy?”
Jack smiled and took his cue. “How about a rosé? Something cacophonous with hints of expired bathtub caulk and slightly wilted bib lettuce.”
Paige dissolved in peals of laughter as her father reached into his back pocket for his wallet. He pulled out a few bills, folded them over, and handed them out to Allie. “Here. This is for the you-know-whats,” he said.
“Dad.” Paige rolled her eyes. “It’s a bra shopping trip, not a spy mission.”
