Chapter 40MarenI stare at the little girl in front of me with the big blue eyes. Her brown hair is braided to the side. She’s sweet and incredibly polite.
I offer a hand to her. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Maren.”
She slides her small hand into mine. “Keats told me you had red hair.”
I smile. “He told me you love Dudley.”
She cradles the stuffed animal in her arms. “This is Budley. He’s my buddy when I can’t see Dudley.”
“Clever,” Keats quips from behind her. “Did you drive here or what?”
She bends over in a belly laugh. “I’m eight. I can’t drive.”
“You’re eight,” he affirms with a nod. “Doesn’t that mean you need to be in school right about now?”
“You’re twenty-nine,” she points out. “Doesn’t that mean you should know how to brush your hair by now?”
I hold in a laugh.
Keats runs a hand through his hair. “What’s wrong with my hair?”
“You need a cut.” A man’s voice calls from the open doorway.
“Daddy!” Stevie races over to him. “This is Maren. See her red hair. It’s pretty, right?”
Keats’s brother grabs hold of his daughter’s hand and crosses the floor toward me. “I’m Berk.”
I see the family resemblance almost immediately. Their hair and eye color are different, but Berk has the same strong features as his brother. He’s slightly taller and nearly as handsome as Keats.
“Should I know why you’re here?” Keats questions. “Am I missing something?”
Stevie glances at him. “I told you yesterday that I didn’t have school today. My teachers are learning new stuff.”
“It’s a staff development day.” Berk glances in my direction before he looks at his brother. “I took the day off, but Nicholas wants to meet up. I think it’s good news. I was hoping you could watch Stevie for an hour or two?”
“Watch me watch him.” Stevie points at her eyes before she levels her fingers at Keats.
He laughs. “Miss Morgan can work for me today.”
That sets Stevie’s back straighter as she stands tall. “I can work here?”
Berk nods. “Listen to Keats. I’ll be back in a couple of hours to pick you up.”
Stevie bounces in her shoes as her dad leans down to kiss her forehead. “Good luck, Daddy.”
Berk tugs on her braid. “Thank you.”
I smile when Berk looks at me. “It’s been nice meeting you, Berk.”
He winks at Keats before he turns his attention back to me. “I’ve enjoyed it too, Maren.”***“Did you invite Maren to our concert?” Stevie asks from where she’s sitting behind Keats’s desk.
Keats took a seat in one of the visitor chairs facing his desk. I’m back at my desk, but with the door to Keats’s office open, I can clearly hear the conversation between the two of them.
“You’re ready for an audience?” Keats asks.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Stevie answers.
“Your confidence is next level.” Keats glances back at me. “Why don’t you grab some of that paper and make Maren a ticket for the concert?”
Stevie waves to me. “Do you think she can hear us?”
Keats looks back at her. “No. Why?”
“I think you should marry her, Keats.” She sneaks another peek at me. “She’s pretty and nice. You know that since you kissed her, and I like her.”
“Let’s worry about the concert for now,” he expertly avoids her comments.
“Okay.” She lets out an audible sigh. “Someone else might ask her to marry them, and then what?”
“If you get that ticket done in the next ten minutes, I’ll ask Maren to take you to see Dudley.”
I watch as she bounces to her feet. “Seriously?”
“Seriously?” Keats answers.
She drops back into the chair, grabs a piece of paper and a pen, and starts writing something down.
Keats stands and turns toward me.
I watch every step he takes as he approaches my desk. When he’s next to it, he looks down at me. “Did you hear all of that?”
I nod. “Every word.”
He huffs out a laugh. “I don’t know what it is about kids that age and marriage. They don’t understand how complicated that is.”
It doesn’t have to be complicated.
I sit on those words as I watch him scrub the back of his neck with his hand.
“Can you take her to see Dudley for an hour?” He glances at the watch on his wrist. “I’m expecting a call from a scout in Denver.”
“Of course, I’m happy to do that. I’m sure Dudley will be glad to see her.”
“She’s going to hand you a ticket to our concert.” He shifts from one foot to another. “It’s a piano recital, but feel free to say no.”
I take a chance and ask the question sitting on the tip of my tongue. “Do you want me there, Keats?”
His eyes find mine, and I see the answer before he says anything. “I do.”
“I’ll RSVP as a definite yes,” I say quietly. “I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”Chapter 41MarenSpending an hour-and-a-half with an eight-year-old today was enlightening. I learned all about dinosaurs and unicorns.