Page 77 of The Broken Heart Playlist
She steps aside and Lisset leads Gideon down the hallway to the kitchen, chattering nonstop.
Once they’re out of earshot, I whisper, “It’s just a dress.”
“It’s not just a dress and you know it,” she whispers back.
I do. I haven’t worn a dress in years. It feels like a symbol.
“You look beautiful,” she chokes out. Her eyes possess a suspicious sheen.
“Don’t cry!” I order her.
“I’ll cry if I want to!”
Like a great white shark, Mom appears in the hallway. “What are you two whispering about?” she barks. Then her gaze lands on me. “You’re wearing a dress!” she exclaims, hand over her heart.
Honestly, maybe if I’d arrived in a bikini it would have been less attention-grabbing.
“Don’t make a big deal out of it,” I tell her in a hushed voice, not wanting a certain someone to know how out of character it is for me to be wearing a dress.
But it’s too late. Because when I wander into the kitchen Gideon looks up from his conversation with my dad and Aaron on the back patio and gives me a soft, private smile. And I know that he knows.
“How’s it going with Lisset and her reading difficulties?” my grandmother asks, just as my mom hands me the salad to finish off.
I chop up peppers and a cucumber while I update them on Gideon’s idea to involve Lisset in the Reading Dog Program by helping him prepare Uno for his workday. Part of that preparation, I tell them, includes reading out loud to Uno. Lisset read one page yesterday and has agreed to read to him again next Saturday.
“As Gideon says, one step at a time,” I conclude, setting down my knife.
Grandma eyes me speculatively. “He seems like quite a clever man.”
“Handsome too,” Tess throws in.
“And interesting,” Mom adds. “We had a lovely conversation when I bumped into him in the library.”
I’m so tempted to roll my eyes.Bumped into. As if she didn’t purposefully drive to the library on a day when she knew Gideon would be there.
When the lasagna is ready, we move to the dining table. I’m relieved to note Aaron and Gideon seem to be getting along better than the last time they saw one another. Aaron even manages a glimmer of a smile in response to something Gideon says.
When Gideon takes a seat next to me, Grandma’s eyes gleam in a way that has my nerves on high alert.
“Oh, dear, I forgot my glasses,” she announces as we pass the food around the table. “Katherine, please fetch them for me, will you?”
Opposite me, Tess sucks in a breath. Everyone else freezes before quickly behaving as though they didn’t hear Grandma’s request, except they’re all bad actors in a terribly scripted movie.
I glare at my grandmother, who looks innocently back at me.
“It’sKate, Grandma,” I tell her.
Gideon straightens in his chair. I feel his interest in this revelation like a blanketing heat wave.
“Oh, what did I say?” Grandma asks guilelessly.
“You called herKatherine,” Gideon supplies. Unhelpfully, I might add.
“I did?” Grandma attempts a look of confusion, but I know she is sharp as a tack.
“Yes, you did.”
“My mistake,” she says smoothly.
