“I’m sure there’ssomeonein this world who doesn’t likepizza.”
“Yeah, you know who?”
“Tell me.”
“Terrible people, Jon.That’s who.”
“You’re probably rightabout that,” he chuckled gently, squeezing her shoulder before standing up.
His eyes met mine and Isaw in them the affection I’d felt that night weeks ago, when he’d led me intohis room and laid me on the bed. I missed it and I wanted that again. To feelappreciated, to feel wanted. God, I didn’t just want that; Ineededit.
“Youwannahelp me with this?” he asked me, lifting the box ofpizza.
“Sure.” I led him intothe kitchen, leaving the girls to sit on the couch and watch aFamily Feudrerun with Grandma that I’dseen about twenty times. At least it was new for them and I quelled the need tolaugh about that.
Despite the relativelyopen floorplan of Grandma’s house, in that moment, the kitchen felt so secludedfrom the living room. I stood closely beside him at the counter as I handed hima knife and he cut the pre-sliced pizza into smaller pieces. I took the slicesfrom him and laid them onto plates, ready to head back into the living roomwhen he grabbed my wrist in a firm grip.
“Wait,” he commanded,and I turned to look up at him and his warm eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“What do you mean?”
“You look upset.”
My forehead crumpled asI dropped my gaze. I wasn’t aware that I was wearing my feelings so blatantlyand I shook my head. “No, I’m o—”
“Don’t tell me you’reokay. Just tell me what’s wrong.”
There wasn’t a reasonto lie, so I relented. “She’s getting worse and Tim thinks it could happensoon.”
“Do youwannatake some time away from the girls? If you need to,just let me know. I can call my mom.”
My eyes shot back tohis, incredulous. “Are you kidding me? Ineedmy time with them,” I practically laughed. “Trust me, the distraction iswelcomed.”
“Okay.” He nodded,understanding. “Just let me know. Whatever you need to do, we’ll work aroundit.”
I studied the sincerityin hisgaze, andfound myself silently asking whenthis had happened. In what had felt likemoments,he had been transformed from a tragic, hollow shell of a man into this personfull of warmth, compassion, and—dare I say it—hope. His confidence in the future and what it held for him was acomfort, and I wished he could lend me some.
We carried the pizzainto the living room and ate. I cut Grandma’s slice into bite-sized pieces andhelped her eat, as Jon’s daughters looked on with curiosity. After a fewmoments, Shelly tugged at her father’s sleeve and asked, “Daddy, why can’tTess’s grandma eat by herself?”
“I eat myself,” Annabelannounced proudly, lifting her pizza slice.
“Honey,” Jon answeredsoftly, “Tess’s grandma needs a little help sometimes, just like you do.”
“Like when I need youand Tess to wipe me?” Shelly asked.
I laughed, and much tomy surprise, Grandma’s lips twitched into a smile. She turned to face Shellyand said, “Sometimes I need Tess to wipe me, too.” Shelly blanched as Jonnearly choked on his pizza. “Really?”she asked, gaping at the old woman, and Grandma simply shrugged and looked away.
“Have you been makingmagic out of simple things lately, Jon?” Grandma asked, staring ahead at the TVas I fed her another bite of pizza.
“I’ve written some newsongs.” He took a bite and shrugged. “Not sure I’d call them magic, but it’ssomething, I guess.”
“Tessa tells me you gotyourself a record deal.”
“Well, not exactly,” hemuttered, chewing mindfully. “I got a jobplayingfora guy who produces his own albums.”
“Do you get to playyour own music with this guy?” Grandma asked.
He nodded. “Yeah, Devinlikes my stuff. He thinks it’s a good fit and—”
