Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“It kind of matches your sweater,” she comments, stepping closer to him. “I’m really glad you like it.”
“I do.” He looks down at her. “I’ll treasure it forever.”
“That’s a long time,” she says in barely more than a whisper. “If it ever breaks and you need me to fix it, just tell my mom.”
Holden looks at me. “I will.”
“I’m going to put your flowers in some water, Olive.” I motion behind me to one of the lower cupboards. “Why don’t you pick out a vase for them?”
“I’ll do that,” she says before she sprints in that direction.
Holden leans in to lower his voice so only I can hear it. “I think she likes me.”
“She does,” I agree. “Her mom does, too.”
His right eyebrow perks. “This is already shaping up to be the best night I’ve had in a long time.”
“Dinner was delicious.” Holden swipes a linen napkin over his lips.
“I made the salad.” Olive’s hand pops in the air. “I think I did a pretty good job.”
“You did,” Holden says. “Did you help with the roast chicken and sweet potatoes, too?”
“I shouldn’t say, but that was all grandma,” Oliver whisper shouts. “She got it all ready for Mom this afternoon and told her when to put it in the oven.”
Laughing, I own it. “Martha loves to cook. I’m still learning, but she’s the expert around here.”
“Grandma is a very good cook.” Olive nods. “She’s good at sewing, too. She sewed a really pretty dress for me. Do you want to see?”
Since that question is clearly directed at Holden, he nods. “I’d love to see it.”
“I’ll get it,” she announces before she takes off in a run toward the stairs.
As soon as she’s out of view, Holden reaches for my hand. He cups it in his before he drags it up to his lips to kiss my palm. “You’re a great mom.”
The compliment is unexpected but welcome. “That’s all I really want to be.”
The sound of movement above us lures Holden’s eyes to the ceiling. “It sounds like she’s moving furniture up there.”
“She might be.”
“That would give us time to kiss.” He cocks a brow. “A chaste one, of course.”
I lean closer to press my lips to his for a soft kiss. “Like that?”
“How can a kiss like that make me want you so much?” he whispers. “Why can’t I get enough of you?”
I want to tell him it’s the same for me. I can’t get enough of him. I don’t know if I ever will.
The rumble of Olive’s feet on the stairs pulls us apart. Holden gives my hand one last squeeze before he drops it.
Olive appears again, but this time, she’s dressed in blue. It’s the dress that Martha sewed for her just last month. They chose the material together, and Olive sat by her grandmother’s side as she worked on her vintage sewing machine. I captured so many images and videos of that because I want to remember it forever.
“What do you think?” Olive spins in a tight circle to show off the dress. “It’s so pretty.”
Holden’s gaze lingers on the pendant hanging from the gold chain around her neck that is now in view. She’s tugging on it. I know that move. She does that when she’s extra excited.
“You’re looking at my necklace, aren’t you?” she asks before Holden can say anything. “It’s my good luck charm. A four-leaf clover.”
He leans forward to get a better look. “With two small diamonds.”
“Right.” She nods. “My first Mommy gave it to my Mom. I get to wear it whenever I want.”
Grateful that I explained Olive’s birth to Holden, I glance at him, but his gaze has dropped to his lap. When he does look up, he’s focused solely on Olive.
“The dress and the necklace are beautiful, Olive.”
She takes a step closer to him. “I was wearing this necklace when I won the spelling bee at school.”
He smiles gently. “You must be very good at spelling.”
“Average.” She laughs. “But whenever I wear this, good stuff happens.”
She’s now directly in front of him. Her fingers toy with the four-leaf clover charm. “Do you think they’re real diamonds. Mommy said they might be, but maybe not.”
He stares at the pendant, his gaze never leaving it. “Those are real diamonds, Olive.”
I’ve always suspected they were, too. Celia told me she treated herself to the pendant when she saw it at a market while on a beach vacation with some friends from work. She was struck by the idea that the pendant might bring her good luck.
It did in many ways, and not in others.
It is something tangible that bonds her to Olive, so I hope my daughter treasures it forever.
“I’ll take extra good care of it.” The pendant disappears into her fist when she closes her hand around it. “Can we have dessert now, Mom?”