As unobtrusively as possible, she weaved her way through the crowd, and found Jayde having a small break behind the large banner that featured the book’s title and Jayde’s name in big, bold letters. She was sipping at a bottle of water.
“Writer’s cramp?” Tessa smiled cheekily.
“Hardly. More like eye strain. I’ve seen my autograph so many times that I’m questioning the alphabet.” Jayde widened her eyes as if to demonstrate just how strained they were.
Tessa laughed. “I’m taking your dad home. He’s reached his limit.”
“Oh! Is he alright otherwise?” Jayde reached for Tessa’s hand.
“Yeah. He’s all good, but he’s just done.” Tessa squeezed Jayde’s fingers. “He’s unbelievably proud of you.”
Jayde’s eyes sparkled and she blinked away potential tears. “I know.” Then she clasped Tessa’s other hand, and gazed at her face.
“I want to buy a dinner set and pillow cases and a table cloth with you,” she said earnestly. Tessa cocked her head. That was a heck of a segue, but a beautiful one because Tessa knew exactly where this conversation was going.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” Jayde frowned as if unsure.
“Yes. Dinner sets and pillow cases and table cloths are my love language.”
Jayde blinked then fell about laughing.
“So, you know I’m being kind of metaphorical?” Jayde bit her lip.
Tessa smiled. “I know. This is a conversation about table cloths for our dining table in our flat at the back of your dad’s place.” She looked at Jayde quizzically. “If that’s what you’d like?”
Tessa was bundled into a tight hug. “That’s what I’d love,” Jayde whispered into her ear.
Jayde waved after being called back to the book table, and Tessa, carefully guiding Oliver to her car, basked in the radiance of Jayde’s smile. It matched her own. She settled Jayde’s dad into his seat, then, as she walked around the front of the car, she paused and looked up at the clear blue midday sky of a summer’s day in Melbourne. Was love all about table cloths and pillow cases and dinner sets and waking up together and kisses and knowing your person and drinking coffee on the bench halfway down the main path that ran through the gardens? Yes. And no. Tessa had known as soon as she’d heard Grace’s poem. As soon as Jayde sat on the leather ottoman in the lounge room. As soon as Tessa had rambled her declaration. Love is…? It was never meant to be a question. It was always a statement. When she found Jayde, everything made sense because love is.
