“Nice work.” She frowned.
Did he miss that earlier? Was she feeling alright? “Are you okay? Is it your knee?”
She bobbed her head. “I’m fine.”
“Maybe you should ask your sister to take you home,” he said.
“After I begged her to bring me here, no way.” Heather popped more popcorn in her mouth.
Allen laid his string of popcorn garland to the side and reached for another piece of string.
“Tell me another one,” Heather said.
“What?”
“Your Christmas traditions.”
Allen stared at the string in his hands. The corner of his mouth quirked into a smile. “Sing carols.”
“I thought you had a nice voice.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Did you forget our sing-a-long in your truck?” she asked.
He laughed. He loved Motown songs, compliments of his mother and father. “I guess I did.”
“Did your mother sing?”
He bobbed his head. “She could have been a pro if she wanted to.”
“She didn’t?”
“I don’t remember asking her, but she loved music. She had a heart for children, so teaching was her passion. She taught piano and voice.”
“Were you one of her students?” Heather placed her finished garland next to his and knotted another string.
“I took piano, but it didn’t last.”
“I wanted to play the piano.”
“Why didn’t you?”
She shrugged. “I didn‘t get it. I tried, but I lost interest too.”
“Maybe you’ll pick it back up again,” Allen said while staring at her.
“You’re offering to teach me what you know?” She smiled.
The look returned. What did he do now? Was it smart to fight it?
Heather stared at him. “I mean you don’t have to. I probably wouldn’t be interested, anyway.”
Did he wait too long to answer? “I’m not saying I couldn’t help, but if you’re serious—”
She waved away his comment. “No, don’t worry about it.”
“Heather I—”