Page 76 of Almost Perfect
“No, I get it. Obviously, I was a lot younger when I lost my dad, but I lost my grandma a few years back, and she lived with us for a lot of my childhood. And then Charlie. I feel like I grieve for my dad even still. Every year on my birthday, now that I’m older than he ever got to be, it hits me really hard.” I hadn’t realized just how hard until this past week. What would my life have been like, especially the last decade, if I’d confronted those feelings sooner?
“That makes sense. I’m sorry.”
Her eyes were filled with compassion, and for them, I set down the ladle. She seemed to have the same idea I had because we stepped together and wrapped our arms around each other.
“I’m sorry your loss is so fresh. And complex. I wish I could do something to help.”
Her response was muffled, but I heard her perfectly. “You are.”
After a few more minutes, we pulled apart, offering shy smiles at each other. I dipped soup into bowls and after confirming she wanted all the toppings, layered on cubed avocado, chopped cilantro, and a pinch of Maldon sea salt.Grade A garnish.
“You are truly fancy, Wyatt Saint,” she said as she sat at the table.
“I’m not. But when I slowed down at work, I was so bored out of my skull, I decided to find a hobby. Since I already cook, I decided to try making more of an effort and ended up following this food blogger. Long story short, she’s big on garnishes and I’m now a man convinced—as she says, ‘Real men garnish.’”
“God bless her. If I ever meet the woman, I’ll be sure to thank her personally.” Her beaming smile sent a wave of warm satisfaction through me.
“I hear she and her family are looking to move from Colorado. Maybe they’ll choose Silverton and you and she can become best friends.”
She pointed her soup spoon at me. “Now you’re talking.”
We chatted while we ate, and though I dreaded the conversation, I didn’t think I could go another night with her in my house without knowing. “The other day, you mentioned that you didn’t want to go back to LA.”
She nodded.
“What’s going on there?”
She set her spoon in her empty bowl and nudged it back from the edge of the table. “I’m so tired of it. I just can’t imagine going back.”
“Do you have to?”
“Honestly? I don’t know. I’ve spent a lot of time daydreaming about what my life might look like if I just… didn’t.”
My heart kicked at the thought.
“Well, you’re welcome here. I’m sure Warrick will let you have the place as long as you want.” I smiled reassuringly, then realized that might’ve sounded desperate or a little too hopeful, so I rushed to add, “Of course, there are some nice places near town too, if you, uh, you know, if you wanted to be closer to civilization.”
She gave me a tight nod. “True. I’ve been talking with my assistant about some of the logistics. We’re working through it.”
That closed the issue obviously enough, so I stood and grabbed our plates. “Dessert?”
“Sure.”
We moved around each other in the kitchen in silence, only the fire crackling in the living room accompanying our movements. I dished up vanilla ice cream and drizzled chocolate sauce from a pan over top.
“Not my best work, but I don’t want to run the oven with the generator.”
“This looks amazing.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me into the living room, then down to sit next to her on the couch facing the fireplace. “I’m guessing you don’t normally eat over here.”
“Uh, no.”
She bit back a smile. “If it makes you uncomfortable, we can go to the table. I just thought it would be cozy over here.”
“No, it’s nice.”
And amazingly, it was. Normally, I hated the idea of slumping into the couch and dropping crumbs into the cushions. It nagged at me, the thought of spilling or dropping something onto the living room rug. But sliding scoops of melty ice cream and rich chocolate up the curve of the bowl while sitting next to Calla? Didn’t bother me at all.
“Mmm. I love the cold ice cream and how the sauce stayed warm. It’s surprisingly decadent.”
