Gathered Up by Annabeth Albert

Author:Annabeth Albert [Albert, Annabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2017-09-19T22:50:49+00:00

Chapter 8

By Tuesday I’d worked myself up into a low-grade panic attack over the dinner that night. I wished I could cancel, but it was a tradition, and upsetting my very-pregnant sister wasn’t something I was willing to do. It was bad enough that I was still planning on being a no-show to Christmas dinner. I couldn’t miss this, too.

Char had started the birthday dinner tradition our junior year of high school. When we were all in the same city, we did a dinner for the Murphy twins in December and then one for us in March. It was all very twinsy and cute and totally not my idea. The duo having a birthday got to pick the restaurant, which meant beer and burgers in December and Japanese in March because it was the one thing Char and I could agree on.

She’d called earlier in the day, leaning on me about Christmas plans. Between her and the bet with Sawyer, my resolve to pretend the season didn’t exist was…well, weakening wasn’t a word I wanted to be associated with, but it was under fire. The silly bet with Sawyer had me seeing details I hadn’t let myself notice in years: the decorated windows walking up Alberta, the wreaths on the doors to the other condos in my building, the goodies at my favorite gourmet grocery store. Maybe this was what people meant when they said grief lessened with time. Or maybe it was that Sawyer and all his distractions were more pressing. And that made me sad in ways I couldn’t really verbalize.

I was still mulling over my melancholy or lack thereof when my phone buzzed. I had no one in the shop so I pulled it out to check.

It was from Sawyer, and it wasn’t the first text since Sunday either. He’d texted when he’d gotten home on Sunday and he’d sent a few innuendo-laced texts yesterday, the most notable being, Been Googling rope. I blame you. He seemed to love getting me all flustered.

Tucker picked Hopworks because they have the play area for Aria. Need a ride?

I did actually, as I didn’t have a car, and squeezing in Char’s minivan to head to the brewery in the southeastern part of the city had limited appeal, but what I typed was, This is all part of your ploy to make me go home with you.

His reply was almost instantaneous. Guilty. Pick you up at the close of business?

Fine. I do need to get home to feed Benedict after, though.

Ha. I’ll pick you up at your place instead, give you a chance to lay out extra kibble ;)

For a brief moment I wished for one of those discerning Siamese cats who would only eat fresh food proffered at the exact right moment. No, I had the composter version that ate everything from corn to off-brand kibble with equal enthusiasm. He wouldn’t mind if I were out late, but the prospect still gave me shivers.

All right. Just typing that felt like a huge leap, the sort we’d made as kids into the deep end at the neighborhood pool.

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