Page 17 of The Broken Heart Playlist
“Surely it’s more interesting than Brown Oaks.”
His eyes fix on mine. “On the contrary, I’m finding Brown Oaks extremely interesting.”
I’m abruptly aware of Janine watching us with avid interest on her face, as if she’s a witness to something we’re not privy to.
I wait for more of the charm Gideon appears to be throwing around like confetti at a wedding, but he turns his attentionaway from me and focuses on Lisset, who has her arm wrapped around my leg.
Huh.
“Hi,” he says to her.
She looks up at him in wide-eyed astonishment. In her mind, adults tend to stick to the usual script of ignoring children in an absentminded, benign sort of way. Gideon Walker is deviating from the script, surprising her. And me.
“Hi,” she responds in a wary voice, pressing a little closer to my leg. I’d like to believe her wariness is due to a mistrust of strangers, a message I’m forever drumming into her, but I think it’s due more to the fact she associates him with a library and her newfound dislike of reading.
“My name’s Gideon and this handsome rascal here is Uno.” He strokes the greyhound’s bony head. “What’s your name?”
“Lisset.”
“Uno, say hello to Lisset,” Gideon instructs his greyhound, gesturing in Lisset’s direction.
Uno offers her a gentle nudge with his head.
“Greyhounds have trouble sitting because of their long spine and muscular hindquarters,” he tells my daughter. “So Uno can’t give you his paw, but this is his way of greeting you.”
Lisset, predictably, melts. I see it written all over her face. She’s fallen in love. While I’m grateful she’s distracted from her resentment at being in the library, I also know I’m going to hear it from her all the way home that greyhounds are the absolute best and we have to get one.
As Lisset tentatively strokes the greyhound on his head, imitating Gideon’s motion, the dog flicks his eyes up at me in quiet curiosity. I make no move to touch him. I don’t do dogs.
Also, I haven’t finished digging for information. “What brings you to Brown Oaks?” I ask Gideon.
“Change of pace,” he replies casually.
“Is that all?” I ask, equally casual.
“Is that not enough?”
“Most people prefer a coastal town if they’re retiring.”
His lips twitch, acknowledging the dig.
Janine laughs nervously, picking up on the tension coloring the air. “Gideon volunteers at the library once a week. Isn’t that right, Gideon?”
She glances over at him for confirmation, but it’s me he’s staring at when he answers, “Yes, that’s right.”
Janine fluffs her hair. “At first, I was like, what’s a dog doing in the library? I thought it was only guide dogs allowed in here. But then he tells me Uno is trained as areading therapydog. I never heard such a thing before, but it sounds like a wonderful program.”
Unease peppers my skin. I have to clear my throat before I can address Gideon. “Are you also involved in the Reading Dog Program at Brown Oaks Academy?”
He nods. “I have my first session next week.”
I don’t know how to translate what I’m feeling right now. The man has moved into the house directly across from me. He’s in my local library gathering up a female fan club, of which Janine appears to be president. And now he’s working at my daughter’s school.
How did Gideon Walker suddenly become the sun we’re all orbiting around?
I don’t like this. I don’t like this one bit.
“The program is aimed at assisting students who are reluctant readers,” he explains in his smooth, deep,charmingvoice. “Uno and I are here at the library every Thursday night.”
