Chapter 26
Abigail tore the receipt off the register and tucked it into the bag, then passed the package to the little girl who had come in with her grandmother for a girls’ day out, as they’d told Abigail while she rang up their purchase.
“Y’all enjoy the rest of your day,” she said.
“We will.” The little girl tugged her grandmother toward the door. “We’re getting pie next.”
Abigail waved as her own stomach gave a quiet rumble. She checked the time on the register. 12:30.
Surprised, she looked to the door. Simeon should be here by now. He wouldn’t stand her up on their first lunch date, would he? She pushed the doubt aside. He’d probably gotten caught up with his work, the same way she had.
“Well, how’d it go?” Ruth bustled up from the back of the store, where she’d been helping another customer find a book about Greece.
“I did it.” Abigail grinned. It had been her first solo checkout with no supervision.
“I had no doubts.” Ruth patted her hand, and Abigail couldn’t help feeling proud of her achievement. So far, relearning the job had been pretty easy. She wasn’t sure if it was because the job—or at least this part of it—was easy or because she still retained some procedural memory of how to do it. Spending the morning with Ruth had been nice. Her boss hadn’t once asked her if she remembered something; instead, she’d acted as if Abigail were a brand-new employee. Abigail wondered if Simeon had called and asked her to do that or if Ruth had done it instinctively. Either way, Abigail appreciated the lack of expectations.
She fingered the spot on her hand where her wedding ring had left a pale band. Taking the ring off had had the same effect, like she was freed from the suffocating halo of expectations Simeon had for who she was supposed to be.
The cheerful bell over the front door chimed, and Abigail looked up to greet the new customer. The flutter that rippled through her when she spotted Simeon was unexpected but not unpleasant.
“Welcome to the Book Den,” she greeted him with a grin.
He smiled back and weaved through the tables of books to the counter she stood behind. “Sorry I’m late. You look right at home here.”
“Thanks. I feel right at home.” She wondered if, on some level, some part of her did remember this place and that was why it had been so easy to step right back into it. But if that were the case, shouldn’t she feel the same way about her actual home?
“Are we still on for lunch?” Simeon glanced at his watch. “I have an appointment at 1:30, but I think there’s still time for Murf’s.”
Abigail looked to Ruth to make sure it would be okay.
“Go, go.” Ruth shooed her out from behind the counter.
Abigail obeyed, pulling in a breath of Simeon’s earthy scent as she fell in next to him. They reached a spot where the tables were too close together to walk side by side, and Simeon gestured for her to go first, his hand brushing her arm as she slipped past. The sensation of the touch lasted well after the contact ended.
Outside, Simeon helped her into the SUV, then steered out of the parking lot. “So you had a good morning?”
“I did.” That sense of achievement stole over her again. “Did you?”
“It was fine.” Something in his tone rang just a little too practiced, and Abigail turned to him. He was looking out the windshield, but Abigail got the odd feeling he was seeing something else.
“Did you catch up on a lot of work?”
“Huh?” He pulled his gaze to her. “Oh. Yeah.”
She wondered if he’d always been so taciturn about his work. But then, she supposed it made sense. Counselors had to keep things confidential. Maybe she wasn’t even supposed to ask.
It only took a few minutes to get to Murf’s. Simeon turned off the vehicle, and Abigail waited for him to come around to open her door as he always did, but he just sat there, once again staring out the windshield.
“Is everything all right?” Abigail touched his arm, and he jumped, then looked at the spot where her fingers rested.
“Of course.” He lifted his eyes to hers. “Sorry about that. Just thinking about something I should have left at the office. I’m all yours.”
“It’s okay if you don’t have time for lunch. We can get it to go. I know your job is important.”
“Not as important as you.” He opened his car door and slid out. As they started across the parking lot, she found herself hoping he’d take her hand.
But he didn’t, and she reminded herself that she’d been the one who wanted to start their relationship over. She doubted that they’d held hands on their first date.
They went inside to order, then brought their food out to a table under the pergola on the side of the building.
“So tell me all about your morning.” Simeon dug into his burger and fries and listened attentively as she told him about her training. Apparently, he’d been successful in putting aside whatever had been bothering him because she really did feel like he was all hers. She could see why he made a good counselor.
By the time she’d wound down, their food was already gone.
“I can’t believe I spent the whole time talking,” she apologized. “I didn’t even let you get in a word.”
Simeon’s smile spread through her. “I like listening to you. I only wish we had all day. How about a couple of milkshakes for the road?”
“Oh my goodness,” Abigail groaned. “I already don’t fit into half the clothes in my closet.”
Simeon’s eyes traveled over her dress. “You look incredible, Abigail.”
She saw the sincerity in his eyes and tried not to think about the fact that since he was her husband, he must already know what she looked like underneath it.
“A milkshake sounds good,” she squeaked.
“I’ll be right back.” He gathered up their garbage and headed back into the building. Abigail let herself admire him as he walked away. He moved with a natural grace and power that suggested he’d once been an athlete. Maybe a runner? Or a football player? She’d have to ask him.
A few minutes later, he returned, carrying two huge plastic cups and an even bigger smile, directed straight at her. Abigail’s heartbeat stepped up its pace, and her lips lifted in response. It seemed she quite liked dating her husband. She should congratulate Past Abigail on her good taste in men.
A little giggle escaped, and Simeon tipped his head to the side, giving her a quizzical look. “What’s so funny? Did I get ketchup on my shirt?”
He glanced down toward his buttons, and she giggled again. “No. Nothing’s funny. I’m just . . . having a good day.”
Simeon’s eyes crinkled as his smile widened. “Good.” He passed her one of the cups, and they each took a long pull on their straws.
“It’s good, isn’t it?” Simeon lowered his cup.
Abigail took another sip, then nodded. For the first time since the accident, it felt like maybe good was the perfect word to describe everything.