Page 57 of Forget Me Not
It was going to be a new tradition, but already it was becoming a favorite—after going to see Noah, the three regrouped at her loft to prep all the decorations for Kayla’s birthday party thefollowing week.
Bastien, lucky as he was, volunteered to help before fully understanding what exactly he had signed up for.
So, there he was, sitting on the floor under a pile of paper, still slightly warm from the printer with a pair of scissors in hand—primed to cut out, God-only-knows, exactly how many dog bones and paw prints, because Cam insisted it would be recyclable and therefore ‘cooler than traditional confetti’.
She had a point.
Daunting as the pile seemed, the man had yet to complain.
Pouring her broken heart into creating smiles for Cam’s soon-to-be three-year-old helped keep Syve together. Odd as it was, sitting on the floor next to Bastien while he soldiered past paper cuts also soothed her.
When Cam informed him that attendance to the party was mandatory lest he incur the wrath of the birthday princess, he didn’t even balk—instead he assured her he would catch a ride with Syve, and refused to miss it for the world.
Another work week toiled past. Any free time Bastien had was spent on Syve’s sofa at Sew It Seams, tirelessly working on the uni-puppy confetti.
While he was battling hand cramps and dancing a fine-line with carpal tunnel, Syve was plugging along, having fully completed another piece for the grant submission.
Though they were working in parallel, she kept catching herself sneaking glances over her sewing machine. Morethan once, their eyes locked. She’d blush and silently scold herself—only to rinse-and-repeat all before another fifteen minutes could pass.
When the day of the party came, the birthday princess was very much looking forward to Bastien’s arrival and presented him with the title of ‘birthday knight’. The little girl forced him to wear a tiara and stand guard over her until she passed out on the couch in a cupcake-induced coma.
Bastien
Frozenairnippedathis exposed skin while Bas shuffled stacks of crates around in the cooler. His phone chimed in his pocket, requiring him to utilize all his self-restraint to keep from dumping an arm full of the crates onto the concrete floor. Quickly as he could, he freed his arms and dug his phone out to reveal one notification—an email, and the exact one he had been waiting for all morning.
Cyrus and Syve were right. Dez would want him to be happy. He’d want him to use the money he left behind if that’s what it took to get there.
Bastien had never set out to work as a butcher, it was not a lifelong dream of his, but once he was there, he couldnot imagine leaving. After years of working with no goal, he could confidently say he could picture himself in Hal’s shoes one day—nine to five at the shop and then home to his wife.
Maybe he was getting ahead of himself…Hal’s made him happy. Owning the butcher shop had become his goal and he knew he would regret it if he let the opportunity slip past him, so Monday morning he called the bank. Now it was all dependent on the message sitting in his inbox.
“You in here, son?” Hal called, peeking around the door. When he didn’t get a response, he stepped all the way into the cooler. “Everything okay?”
Phone held up in front of him, a broad smile on his face, Bas turned around and said, “Hal, I’m ready to talk numbers. Let me buy the shop.”
Syve answered the phone on the second ring. “Bastien, hey, everything okay?”
He could hear her sewing machine whirring in the background.
“Bambi, I did it.” Despite the warring emotions bouncing around in his body, his voice clearly held all of his excitement.
“Did it? Did what?” Syve asked. The sewing stopped, he had her full attention.
“I talked to the bank, and I told Hal I’d buy the shop.” He stopped pacing and covered his mouth with his free hand, waiting for her reaction.
A gasp. “Bas! That’s amazing! Congratulations! What happens now?”
“Well, nothing right now,” he chuckled. “We’ve still got to sit down and talk real numbers, get the bank involved—Hal said he’s got a friend who can help with the legal end. It’ll take a few months, but the ball’s at least rolling.”
“I’m so happy for you—both of you! Hattie’s going to love having Hal home all the time. It’s about time he retired, and this will be so good for you! Should we celebrate? Is that bad luck? Should we wait?” she rambled.
He just listened for a moment, relishing in her excitement.
“I wouldn’t be opposed to celebrating now. Actually, that’s part of why I called. It’s because of you and Cyrus that I finally went through with it. Come to dinner with me. A celebration—but also a thank you, for encouraging me.”
She hesitated, but before he could say anything else, she answered, “Okay, yeah. I’m in. When and where?”
He let out a breath, muscles relaxing. “Would tonight work for you? I could pick you up after work, say, six-thirty?”
