Chapter 26
EMMY
A chill runs over me, even though it’s August. I’m in bed, my hands twisting the sheet as I grapple with the knot in my gut, trying to suss out where it’s coming from.
Maybe it’s because of Graham’s preseason game. With each day that draws closer to him going back on the football field, I want to beg him not to play.
Maybe it’s because I’m seeing my doctor soon. My hand touches my chest, checking the beats. Steady. Normal. But they haven’t always been recently. Something isn’t right.
I get up out of bed and slip on a slinky white robe and make my way to the window. I step out onto the balcony that overlooks Central Park. Even though I miss seeing Londyn in the mornings, I adore this view. I inhale a deep breath, trying to shake off the earlier feeling of trepidation.
Time has slipped by as the days have turned into weeks with us in the apartment. Each day brings new information about Graham. He’s never tried watermelon. He eats his french fries with mayo. That one made me giggle for a full five minutes until he told me to try it, and it wasn’t terrible. He loves warm weather and the sound of the ocean. He has a triangle-shaped birthmark on his hip and a tricky knee that he massages each morning, then ices down after practice. He still grieves from his mother’s death. I know because I’ve asked him to play his baby grand, and he tells me he’s not ready.
“Hey, sleepyhead. I made you a tea,” Graham says as he steps out onto the balcony. He’s wearing gym shorts and a practice shirt, and the sheen of sweat covers him. He’s been on an early-morning run. Today is Sunday, and I slept longer since Babs opens today at noon. I’ll pop in a little bit later.
Yesterday was a busy day at the bookstore; business is actually starting to boom. Of course, that could be because word has gotten around on social media that a couple of Python players frequent the store. Graham even works the checkout counter when he’s there. It’s fun to watch his earnestness as he asks customers if they’ve found everything they need. Maybe for the fall we can do a football window. Oh, perhaps we can twist the stereotype and have a girl baller and a boy cheerleader.
“Thanks.” I take the cup from him as he moves to stand in front of me, leaning his back against the rails of the balcony.
“You look deep in thought. What’s cooking?” he asks.
I inhale the smell of the peppermint tea, then take a sip. “I was thinking about the store. I’ve got so many ideas floating around. Babs wants to organize a book club, and I told her to go with it.”
“Romance? That seems to be her fav.” He smirks.
“Hmm, I was thinking about doing a singles event, like a speed-dating function where you bring your favorite book and talk to prospective dates about it.”
“I’ve heard of restaurants doing them. Sounds fun.”
“Plus, we could use the kitchen and make tapas.”
“Ah, what about adding a theme to the event itself, maybe to fit the window, like an era in history or the theme from a book, like Pride and Prejudice.”
A smile curls my lips at his obvious interest. “Only if you dress up as Darcy.”
“Only if you’re Elizabeth.”
I blush. “Of course. I want to do more for the children’s section too. Maybe let parents sign up to have a kid’s birthday there.”
“Charlotte’s Web,” he says, and I smile.
“Maybe do a display of the prettiest book jackets or the most unique. I also want to buy more impulse products and put them near the checkout—bookmarks, candy, magnets.”
“Maybe magnets with the store’s logo on it.” A horn blows in the distance, and he looks away from me to check out the scenery.
I study the chiseled lines of his profile, the awful prickle of unease rising again.
He sees my frown. “Everything all right?”
I chew on my bottom lip. “Just a bad feeling when I woke up, like something terrible might happen.”
He stiffens, his body on alert. “Like what?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know.”
“Do you get them often?”
“No, but Gran used to. She’d say it was a ghost walking through her and that I better watch my back that day. When Jane was a toddler she seemed to have premonitions of something terrible on a certain day, but most of that was because of the house we grew up in. Any day could be an awful day. I was always prepared.”
He gives me a serious look. “You’re coming to the game, right? I’ve got your tickets at the gate. Lots of wives will be there. Even my dad is coming.”