In Front of Me by Dana LeCheminant

Author:Dana LeCheminant [LeCheminant, Dana]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-06-29T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Brennon called around two, and though the last few hours had left me feeling even more lost than before, I perked up when I saw it was him. He might have worked a lot, but at least he didn’t forget about me when he was gone. “Hey, beautiful,” he said by way of greeting.

Heat filled my face, and I turned away from Steve just in case he could tell how red I was. “Hey yourself. I’m glad you called.”

“Why is that?” Brennon asked, sounding particularly excited.

“I was wondering if you wanted to come out and meet Steve and me for a late lunch.”

He was silent for long enough that I checked my screen to make sure the call hadn’t dropped. “Where are you?” he finally asked.

“Where are we?” I repeated to Steve, who leaned against a railing looking over the water. He just shrugged, and I shook my head at the stupidity of my question. “Fisherman’s Wharf, I think it’s called. Steve said they have some great crab somewhere around here.”

Silence again. “Fog Harbor was his favorite,” Brennon said eventually. “How did you manage to get him to leave the house?”

I glanced at Steve again and took a few steps away so more of the crowd was between us and he wouldn’t overhear. He’d been in a good mood since leaving the bakery, and I didn’t want to ruin it by calling attention to the fact that he was acting out of character. “It was his idea actually,” I told Brennon. “I think he might have realized a bit of sun and fresh air could be good for him.”

“Or something like that,” he replied. What was that supposed to mean? “I could come for a little bit, I guess. Fog Harbor is on the east end at Pier 39. I’ll meet you there in twenty minutes.” He hung up before I could even show some excitement at being able to see him before tonight.

Weird.

Picking my way through the throngs of tourists wandering the wharf, I put my hand on Steve’s shoulder and felt him stiffen beneath me until he realized it was me. “Brennon’s coming to have lunch with us,” I told him. “It’d probably be good to get you off your knee for a bit.”

He grunted and turned in the direction we needed to go, but he kept one hand on the wooden railing, his knuckles a bit white from holding on so tight.

Navigating the crowd was bad enough when I could see them. I could only imagine how overwhelming it must have been for him, especially when I realized he’d closed his eyes. He said movement was easier to see, but there was probably so much movement happening that he could hardly take it all in. Somehow, I had to get him from here to the other end of the wharf, and I had to do it without reinforcing his belief that he was helpless so I didn’t run the risk of losing what little ground I’d gained with him.

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