Page 79 of The Last Thing
“This is a beautiful home.” I take in the old hardwood banister and stairwell. A lot of the home has been updated, but the hardwood floors and some of the classic features remain well taken care of focal points.
“Thank you,” Cheyenne says. “Hallie mentioned you work in construction?”
“Yes. I’m a project manager. I haven’t been lucky enough to work on any homes like this, though. Most of them are seventies, eighties, and nineties homes that we’re gutting or adding on to. Or new builds. I’ll be starting work on one of those in a few weeks.”
We walk through the living room that’s immaculately decorated, then through a doorway and down a short hall with the bathroom off it into the kitchen at the back of the house. It’s a decent size with a four-person table in it.
“We thought we’d eat out back today,” Cheyenne says. “It’s not a big yard, but it’s a little slice of green.”
“Sounds great.”
We follow them outside, and Hallie’s smile brightens. She likes having that little bit of green, a space where she can relax outside. Or play yard games.
I’ve spent restless nights thinking about how easily we could combine our two apartments. All it would take is to remove a few walls and make some upgrades, and we could have a beautiful home. But maybe that wouldn’t be the home she’d truly want.
My mind drifts to a house AB Construction flipped a couple of months ago. It was four bedrooms, only a couple of blocks from the heart of downtown Ida, but it had a big yard. I don’t know if it’s still available, but even if it is… I’m getting way ahead of myself. I haven’t even gotten Hallie to consider me her boyfriend—or partner—yet. But now that a glimpse of that future has drifted into the back of my mind, I can’t help but want it.
I pull out Hallie’s chair for her at the rectangular table set on the little stone patio.
“What do you want to drink?” I ask as she sits down. “Or should I have stopped for milkshakes?”
“Just some water with extra?—”
“Ice. I know.”
She smiles up at me, like she’s saying she told me so. How I take care of her is obvious. But I don’t even think about it. It’s not a choice. It’s what I do because I care about her.
It’s not until I turn toward the door that I feel her parents’ eyes on me.
I glance back for half a second, and am met with an approving smile from each of them. For a second it surprises me, but then I think about what I’d want for Sophia. I’d want someone who would take care of her the same way I do and make sure she had everything she needed.
While I may have just won some points with her parents, I still don’t think it’ll be as easy as Hallie said to fully win them over.
We fellinto a relaxed conversation as Eddie fired up the grill and started cooking.
Cheyenne told me all about their work as realtors and then asked questions about Sophia. Hallie spent the next half hour showing her mom pictures of Sophia while we both told stories about her.
Overall, it’s been a pretty relaxed afternoon. Hallie’s parents seem great. Caring without being overbearing or embarrassing. And it’s easy to see Hallie gets her lighthearted playfulness from both sides. I’m curious where she gets her edge from, though. So far, I haven’t seen a hint of it from either of her parents.
Cheyenne and Eddie made a delicious lunch of steak, asparagus, and grilled garlic bread. It’s been mostly silent because we’ve all been savoring the food, but when I look over at Hallie’s plate, I realize she’s pushing around the same piece of steak she had on her fork ten minutes ago. She picked at the asparagus and garlic bread.
I rub my hand down her back. “Okay?”
Her eyes flash to me, and she tries to force a smile, but I can tell she’s fighting back nausea. “I’m fine. Just not much appetite.”
“Did you tell them?—”
She cuts me off with a look, but Cheyenne has already tuned in to our conversation.
“Is the food not settling okay?”
“It’s fine,” Hallie chirps.
“She has a hard time eating most foods these days. She has a shortlist of stuff that settles well.”
Cheyenne’s gaze narrows. “You told me anything would be fine.”
“I didn’t want you to worry about what I can and can’t eat.”
