Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
“Actually, I’d very much like to see them.”
We ended up startling Bryson when we stepped into the lounge. He looked up from the photo album he was holding and blurted, “Oh! Hi, Granddad. Did I misremember our conversation? I thought you were coming to dinner tomorrow night.” I thought that was sweet. He knew exactly what they’d agreed on, but he was trying to take the blame, in case his grandfather had gotten the nights confused.
“He knows dinner is tomorrow, but he wanted to bring us some wine ahead of time,” I explained, as Bryson climbed out of the pillow nest and joined us.
Bryson looked around in dismay and murmured, “Please excuse the mess.”
“Nonsense.” Edmund gave his grandson’s shoulder a friendly pat. “It looks like you and your husband were enjoying a cozy evening. I apologize for interrupting.”
Bryson seemed flustered, especially when he glanced down and realized he was still wearing the panda onesie. He moved to my side and put a protective arm around my shoulders, maybe because he thought I might be embarrassed, too. “No need to apologize, Granddad. You’re always welcome here. Have you had dinner yet? If not, I’ll make you something.”
“I ate dinner at my desk, same as usual,” he said. “I just wanted to drop off the wine, which as you know should be chilled before we drink it. I also wanted to ask if I should bring anything else tomorrow night. My assistant could order some dessert, maybe a nice dacquoise from the French bakery that made my last birthday cake?”
“Dessert is covered,” I told him. “I’m planning to bake you one of my favorite cakes, butter pecan with a browned butter-cream cheese frosting. I was also going to make an emergency backup cake, in case you don’t like pecans.”
“Forgive me. I momentarily forgot cakes are your passion, Embry. I love pecans, and that sounds delightful.”
“Let’s go take a seat in the living room,” Bryson said, as he tried to direct his grandfather away from the mess. “It’s far less cluttered. Then I’ll make us some coffee, or do you prefer tea this time of night?”
“I prefer brandy. Embry mentioned you were looking at some old photo albums. Mind if I take a look?”
“Oh. Yeah, of course.”
As Edmund took off his hat and overcoat, Bryson and I quickly moved the blankets and pillows out of the way. He sat at one end of the sofa and picked up the album we’d just finished. When he opened it to a random page, he chuckled and told us, “I remember that Christmas. Bryson’s voice was changing. We tried to sing carols, and he sounded like squeaky brakes on a bicycle.”
I grinned at Bryson and whispered, “This is going to be fun.”
Edmund ended up staying almost two hours. We went through every album, and he and Bryson reminisced and told stories about many of the pictures. They both got emotional at times, but there were a lot more smiles than tears.
It ended up being a wonderful night for all of us. I learned a lot about Bryson, his dad, and the family, and I really felt included. I also loved the fact that I got to spend that time curled up at Bryson’s side, with his arm around me. That was my favorite place to be.
When Edmund finally mentioned he was getting tired, I asked if I could call him a Lyft. But he pulled his phone from his pocket and sent a message as he told me, “My driver is standing by. He’ll meet me out front.” I had to wonder what the chauffeur had been doing all this time.
We walked him out, and he turned to us with an apologetic expression when we reached the door. “I hadn’t planned on staying this long and taking up your entire evening. If you’d prefer to postpone our dinner plans, I’ll certainly understand.”
“No way,” Bryson said. “We’ll see you tomorrow at six.”
Edmund’s smile was warm and genuine. “I’m looking forward to it. Thank you for a wonderful trip down memory lane.”
After he left, Bryson leaned against the door and muttered, “I can’t believe my grandfather saw me in this outfit.”
“You look adorable.”
“I look like a furry.”
“He probably doesn’t know what that is.”
“Good.” He glanced at me and asked, “Do you think that was some kind of test? Was he checking up on us? Because that bit about chilling the wine seemed like a pretty flimsy excuse to drop by. He could have just stashed it in his office’s break room refrigerator before bringing it to dinner.”
“I thought the same thing. Maybe he wanted to see if we were actually living together. Or maybe he wanted a glimpse of what our real life looked like when we weren’t expecting company.”
“Whatever he was looking for, I think we probably passed the test.”