Chapter 24 #2
“Is that the only reason for you saying no? If you don’t mind me asking,” I venture cautiously.
“I don’t mind you asking. I would love to talk about it with someone who isn’t yet too close to have a biased opinion.”
I give him a smile that I hope is encouraging. He nods distractedly as he gathers his thoughts, his expression clouding briefly. “It really comes down to the fact that I don’t want a stranger in my home.”
“She wouldn’t be a stranger for long. This is only our second time meeting, and I already don’t feel like you’re a stranger. You’re good at making friends.”
Mr. Donovan reaches out to take my hand with one of his and pats it with the other. “Such a nice thing to say, dear.”
“It’s just the truth.”
“Morgan makes it sound like it’s exactly what I need. And honestly, I need help. I noticed it myself. But the nurses Grey showed me… I don’t like any of them. And I don’t know if it’s just because of their profiles or if I’m being unfair.”
“He showed you online profiles?”
Grey, you nugget.
I hardly know Mr. Donovan and can already tell that letting him get to know people over an impersonal online profile is not the way to go here.
“He did,” he confirms, rubbing the back of his neck. “Morgan told me I should let one come to eat cake. She says that there are a lot like her, who are friendly and open, that it comes with the job.”
“Why don’t you ask her if she wants the job?” I suggest, tilting my head as I look at him.
Am I overstepping?
He sighs, his brow furrowing in thought. “I thought about it, but I don’t want her to feel the need to stick around just because we’re kind of family.”
“Did you ask her?”
He shakes his head, a small, rueful smile playing on his lips. “I didn’t.”
“From what I’ve seen, and it’s admittedly not much, Morgan needs and enjoys having family around her right now.
If you would like to try the nurse thing with her, I guess this would be good for her too.
She doesn’t have a plan or direction right now, and she would like to stay close to Oliver.
So, all I see is that it would be good for both of you.
For all of you. It would keep her in Seattle for Oliver, and Grey would feel better knowing she was here.
And you would feel good knowing you had not a stranger but a friend around. ”
Mr. Donovan looks at me, his eyes filled with something I can’t quite name. “You’re wise beyond your years, Miss Amelia.”
I shake my head, feeling myself blush. “Oh, I’m surely not.”
“Would you play another piece for me?”
I nod, my fingers already itching to touch the keys again. “Of course. What would you like to hear?”
“You know it, dear.”
I grin, recognizing the unspoken request, and I begin to play “Comptine d’un autre été” by Yann Tiersen again.
The familiar melody flows from my fingers, filling the room.
As I play, I steal a glance at Mr. Donovan.
His eyes are closed, a contented smile on his face, completely absorbed in the music.
When I finish, he opens his eyes and claps enthusiastically, his joy evident. “That was wonderful, Amelia. Thank you.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“More than enjoyed it, dear. It brought back many fond memories.”
“I’m happy to hear that.” I really am. Giving him something back feels right after his generosity of letting me play here.
“You know, Grey never wants to play it for me because he thinks he’s not good enough to play it. But that boy could play “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star,” and I would be brimming with pride. Everything he is, everything he worked to be, I couldn’t be prouder of the man he turned out to be.”
A small smile tugs at my lips as I say, “You should be. Grey is amazing.” Mr. Donovan’s eyes sparkle with pride as he returns my smile knowingly. “And he should be so happy to have you. It must be a nice feeling having someone be that proud of you.”
“Every parent is proud of their child.”
A sarcastic scoff escapes me unwillingly while stroking Peanut’s head, my fingers moving rhythmically through the silky fur.
Mr. Donovan furrows his brows, genuine concern etching lines on his face. “Your parents are proud of you, Amelia. I’m sure of it.”
“They’re not,” I whisper, my gaze dropping for a moment. “But that’s okay.”
His expression turns soft, and he shakes his head.
“That’s not okay, Amelia. Because you are so much to be proud of.
You’re such a talented, charismatic, smart, and well-behaved young lady.
” I blush at his words, feeling the warmth spread across my cheeks.
“Blushing is a sign of a good heart,” he adds kindly.
“And you give the best advice. Grey and I can testify to that. You are someone to be proud of, and I for sure am proud of you.”
Never in my life have I heard someone tell me that they’re proud of me.
Well, besides Jamie, but he doesn’t count.
I bite my cheek hard to try not to cry, but a stray tear escapes before I can rub it away.
Fuck.
Stanleys don’t cry.
“You look like you could use a hug,” Mr. Donovan says as he stands and reaches out a hand to me. “Can I give you a hug, please, Amelia?”
I nod before standing, and he pulls me into a fierce, warm hug. His embrace envelops me, letting me breathe in his comforting old wood scent. He strokes my upper back in gentle, soothing motions, not letting go until I am ready to.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened. Today was just a lot and…” I trail off, feeling the words stick in my throat.
“Never apologize for needing someone,” he interrupts, his voice full of understanding.
“We all do. I needed your advice, too, today. We helped each other. Thank you for taking me up on my offer. I wasn’t sure if you would.
I thought about you and if I should reach out again.
And I was so happy when you messaged me. ”
My phone vibrates, pulling me from the moment. I look down to see a message from Grey.
Grey
Where are you?
Mr. Donovan chuckles, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. “Seems like I’m not the only one who thinks about you.” He gives me a knowing wink.
“I should probably text him back and get home,” I say, a small smile returning to my face.
“Of course. Thank you for coming over, and please come back soon. I need to keep you updated about Morgan.”
“And I owe you a cake,” I add, grateful for his kindness. “Thank you for letting me come here, Mr. Donovan.”
“Call me Grandpa, please,” he insists.
“Thank you, Grandpa,” I reply, feeling a comforting sense of belonging as I gather my things.
I pet Peanut one last time before putting on my shoes and leaving. As I step out, I text Grey back.
On my way home. Why?
His answer only comes twenty minutes later when I’m in front of my door.
Grey
Just wanted to make sure you’re okay.
I frown at the phone, puzzled by his message, just as the elevator pings and Willow steps out.
“Hey, Amelia.”
“Hey. Wait, perfect timing. Could you do me a favor, please?”
“Sure, what’s up?” Willow asks, curiosity sparking in her eyes.
“I’ll probably be away for a few days in a couple of weeks. Would you mind feeding my fish?”
Her face lights up with excitement. “Oh my God, yes, please!”
I smile and open my door, reaching in to grab the spare key.
“I don’t know when I can go, so I’ll give you the key now. But I’m going to text you when I know more. That okay? Sorry, I don’t have all the details yet, but I promise there will be a family pack of Twizzlers in it for you. Deal?”
She takes the key, her eyes gleaming with delight. “Deal. Ha! I would have done it without the Twizzlers.”
“Ha! I would have given you two packs.”
“Dang it.”
We both laugh, and I say goodbye, feeling a bit lighter after the encounter.
At least I have that problem off my hands.
As I step into my flat, I place my bag down and let out a deep sigh before I send another text to Grey.
I’m fine. Just had a good talk with your grandpa. I think everything will be okay.
Grey
Thank you, Princess.
I set my phone down, hoping I’m right.
Maybe everything will be okay.