Page 78 of The Broken Heart Playlist
Mistake? Please. What’s with everybody today?
“I can fetch your glasses, GG,” Lisset offers eagerly, scraping back her chair.
Grandma motions her to stay seated. “Don’t worry, child. I just realized I can see the food perfectly fine without them.”
Tess snorts a laugh and I grit my teeth, biting back my reply.
At one point in the meal, when everyone is engaged in different pockets of conversation, Gideon inclines his head at me. “So, Katherine, huh?”
“Nope. There is no Katherine. There is only Kate.”
“Your grandmother called you Katherine.”
“My grandmother is confused.” Only when it suits her, though.
“I like the name Katherine.”
Why does he keep repeating it? “Please feel free to adopt it then.”
“Why don’t you like it?”
All my attempts at humor fade. “That name belongs to a different person in a different lifetime.”
His eyes hold mine. “Maybe she hasn’t vanished. At least, not completely.”
Yes, she has. Katherine of the past was soft and feminine, fun and frivolous, floating through life until... Well, until it all fell apart. Present Kate, however, is a briskly efficient survivor.
Gideon leaves me be and shifts in his chair to engage my dad in a conversation about his time in the construction industry. Except his shifting has angled his body so that his arm presses against mine. I feel the warm, solid strength of him through his shirt.
Now that I think about it, he’s been doing this throughout the meal. Small, accidental touches that he’s turned into an art form. His knee brushing mine under the table. His fingers grazing my skin whenever he passes me something.
Every touch feels like a kiss. A tiny thrill of connection.
After lunch, my dad retreats to the bedroom to lie down for a bit. My mom, Grandma, and Lisset wander off to the living room to discuss some kind of sewing project, and Gideon and Aaron insist on cleaning up in the kitchen. Tess and I are alone at the table.
“You know what I’ve noticed about Gideon,” Tess says, wasting no time. “That man uses every excuse to touch you.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” I bluff.
“Oh, you know exactly what I mean,” she retorts. “But do you know what’s even more surprising than Gideon’s little touches?”
“I’m sure you’re dying to tell me.”
“What’s surprising is that you allow it.”
She’s right. Somehow, I’ve grown not to mind his casual familiarity with me. Of course, I can’t admit that to Tess.
“What do you expect me to do?” I ask instead.
“Well, your usual reaction would be to death stare him or break his arm.”
“If I break his arm, I’ll have the inconvenience of driving him to the hospital. Why create a problem I’ll have to fix?”
“You’re all big talk,” she accuses. “I see the way he looks at you. And the way you’re with him. There’s a connection between the two of you. Admit it.”
I stare at her, thinking how acutely aware I am of Gideon’s every smile, every lingering look, the way he moves around a room. And then I say, “You’re right, there is a connection.”
Tess’s jaw drops. “I can’t believe you admitted to it.”
