Page 26 of Tee the Season
“I wish I could be there.” A wistful sigh accompanies the little girl's whispered wish.
Rory chuckles and grabs his phone, heading toward the window as he flips the camera. “You sure about that? It’s freezing here and has been snowing nonstop since I landed.”
“It’s like a winter wonderland,” the little girl exclaims.
“That’s one way to look at it,” he says, shooting me a look over his shoulder.
“But hey, Soph, we’ve got to get going—”
“Let me say hi to your friend.”
He hesitates for a second before returning to my side. “Um, okay. This is Tabitha. Tabitha, my niece, Sophie.”
I step into the frame. “Thank you for your help, Sophie.”
“You’re welcome.” Her gap-toothed grin is pure delight. “Anything for Uncle Rory. He’s my favorite person in the whole world.”
“Mine, too.” The words are out before I can stop them. Heat floods my face as I rush to add, “Right now, I mean. For helping with all this.”
But the damage is done. My secret is out. Rory’s eyes snap to mine, and the air crackles between us. I need to redirect this conversation. Now. “So, Sophie, what are you reading right now? BesidesThe Penderwicks?”
She lights up at the question, launching into an enthusiastic description ofRoller Girland how she wants to try roller derby, but her mom says she’s too young, and it’s too dangerous. We fall into easy conversation. I recommend a few other series I think she’d love.
Sophie’s practically glowing. “I wish we had a bookstore like yours here.”
“Maybe, your Uncle Rory can bring you to visit sometime,” I say before thinking it through.
Sophie gasps. “Really? Could we, Uncle Rory? Please?”
Rory’s expression shifts, and he clears his throat. “We’ll see, Soph.”
“That means probably not,” Sophie translates with the wisdom of a child well-versed in adult deflection. Then she yawns, wide and unrestrained.
“Someone needs to get to bed,” Melissa’s voice comes through. “Say goodnight, Sophie.”
“Night, Uncle Rory. Night, Tabitha!” She waves enthusiastically before the screen goes dark.
Silence fills the bookstore. Just me and Rory and all the things we’re not saying hanging between us like a question neither of us knows how to answer.
“So.” I break the silence because I can’t stand it. “Pictures?”
Rory has the grace to look sheepish as he rubs the back of his neck. “Sophie asked why I kept smiling at my phone when I visited after the wedding. I mentioned you.”
“Mentioned me how?” I’m aiming for casual but missing by a mile.
“That I met someone interesting.” He’s watching me carefully. “Someone I couldn’t stop thinking about.”
My heart stutters. I turn away, straightening books that are already straight. “Oh.”
“I might have also mentioned you were beautiful.” He takes a step closer. “Tabitha—”
“She’s great. Really helpful. But we should promote the event.” I spin away before he can finish, before my hopes get any higher when whatever this is between us has an expiration. When the roads open. “The social media post. We need to get it up tonight, so people have time to plan ahead.”
For a long moment, he doesn’t respond. I feel his eyes on my back. “Yeah, sounds good. I’ll set up the donation page while you write the post.”
We work in the children’s corner, me cross-legged on the rainbow rug with my laptop, him in the reading chair with his. Every time I glance up for his input, I find him already watching me.
“How’s this?” I angle my screen toward him, reading aloud. “Don’t let the storm ruin your holiday plans. Join us for aspecial virtualStorytime with Santa! Bring your family together from the warmth of home as Santa reads holiday stories and we collect book donations online for the children’s hospital.”
