Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71647 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71647 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
I thought so too.
Ezra bounded into the kitchen with bare feet and damp hair. He flopped onto a chair in our breakfast nook…aka, the tiniest sliver of space delineating the kitchen from the adjoining living room. Most of the rooms in our house were small, but the ceilings were high and the yard was huge—perfect for stargazing and barbecuing.
He finished buttoning his shirt with a crooked grin. “How am I doing?”
“You have precisely one minute and forty-seven seconds on the clock,” I replied without looking at my watch. “But we don’t really have to hurry, you know. This is a casual gathering amongst friends, not a real Script Club meeting.”
He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Who are you, and what did you do with my boyfriend?”
I snickered. “I’m just saying that one minute isn’t going to hurt.”
He shook his head in mock dismay as he picked up the dessert he’d left to cool before his game. The blueberry tart was one of his dad’s best recipes.
Ezra was the first to admit that nine years later, he was still working through his grief. And somehow, cooking helped. Maybe it was the connection to sweet memories tied to a simpler piece of history. Or maybe he’d simply learned to forgive and slowly let go. Grieving was a process and one I think he was beginning to slowly tackle by talking about the good times…and the not so good.
“Let’s do this, Shakespeare.”
We drove the few blocks to our old neighborhood and stood on the sidewalk for a moment, admiring the majestic house on the corner. It looked amazing. A new paint job, a perfectly tended lawn with vibrant hydrangeas under the wraparound porch, and tall trees flanking the trimmed hedge leading to the front door.
We’d been privy to some of the early stages of planning when we were living with Noah and Tommy. We knew they planned to gut the kitchen and bathrooms and redo them in retro style with modern amenities, retrofit the flooring and replace worn-out planks, and brighten the foyer with a skylight and white paint.
Every member of the Script Club had seen the finished product and was suitably impressed, but this was the official housewarming and the first time we’d all gathered together at this house in over a year. I waved at George and his fiancé, Aiden, and hugged Topher and his husband, Simon, when they met us on the sidewalk a moment later.
Sidenote: Topher and Simon got married in February in a beautiful ceremony at Huntington Gardens. George and Aiden got engaged last month, and we were fairly certain that Blake and Asher were going to announce their own impending nuptials tonight.
I reached for Ezra’s hand as we climbed the short set of stairs. My heart boomed against my chest, and my pulse raced in an odd mixture of anticipation and something I could only call…intense gratitude.
The welcoming sunlit foyer led to the gleaming remodeled kitchen on one side and the spacious living area on the other. George’s tiny dark room off the dining area had been converted into an office with french doors leading to a vegetable garden. The five Adirondack chairs were still in place around the firepit, though, and lemon trees still bordered the yard, leaving ample space for stargazing.
We congratulated Tommy and Noah, and mingled with our friends, stopping to chat with Chet and Sam and Lincoln before gravitating to the far end of the yard to take in the atmosphere—a beautiful spring evening and a house filled with friends.
“Do you ever miss this place?” Ezra asked, setting his hand on my hip.
“Yes and no. I’m happy to visit, but I’m glad we’ve moved on. It was a good place for beginnings.”
He smiled and pointed at the side door leading to the kitchen. “That’s where I saw you for the first time. You were wearing some weird hat that looked like a beret on steroids and pulling your keys out of a robe. I remember thinking, he looks like someone I want to know. He looks like the guy I want to grow old with.”
I elbowed him in the ribs. “You did not think that.”