Page 74 of The Broken Heart Playlist
“Okay.” I cover a yawn with my hand. “Sorry I bailed on you. I wasn’t the liveliest movie companion.”
“No apologies necessary,” he says. “It was a fun night. I’m glad you invited me.”
I’m glad I did too. But I don’t say it out loud.
After I see Gideon out, I lock the front door and turn off the hallway light. Yawning, I return to the TV room to switch off the lamp there.
My eyes land on the wingback.
And the pile of clothes sitting there all neatly ironed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
[MESSAGES]
Tess:I might have mentioned Gideon to Mom by mistake.
Kate:How do you mention something BY MISTAKE?
Tess:My brain does it all the time.
Kate:What have you done?
Tess:Save your freakout. It gets worse.
Kate:WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?
Tess:Mom might have visited the library last night when Gideon was there with story hour.
Kate:No.
Tess:She might have invited him to family lunch this Sunday.
Kate:Please tell me he said no.
Tess:And he might have accepted her invitation.
Kate:And I might be coming to your house later to do damage.
I march over to Gideon’s house and rap sharply on his door. The sky is all gradients of gray, like my mood.
“Tess tells me you accepted my mom’s invitation to a family lunch this Sunday,” I say without preamble the moment he opens the door.
“Hello to you too, Kate,” he says easily, folding his arms across his chest and leaning against the doorjamb. “And yes, I did accept her invitation.”
“Why?”
It’s not that I mind Gideon meeting the rest of my family. It’s just... He feels a little like a freight train charging through my life, sweeping Tess up at one station, securing the affection of my daughter at another, and now he’s speeding into yet another station to collect more family members whom he will no doubt charm. Meanwhile, I’m clinging to a seat on the train, still trying to catch my breath as it hurtles down the tracks.
Before Gideon has a chance to reply, Uno comes racing down the hallway. I point my finger at him and order, “Stop!” I’m not normally a finger-pointing person, but this occasion calls for it. The greyhound comes to an abrupt halt, still wagging his tail and panting, but no longer running. I’m kind of impressed with myself.
I return my attention to Gideon and raise my eyebrows, waiting for his answer.
He gives me a half smile. “Your mom is very persuasive. She told me she makes a fantastic lasagna.”
“Her lasagna is legendary,” I concede.
“It also happens to be one of my comfort foods.” The light catches in his hazel eyes as he stares at me. “How about we drive there together?”
