Page 76 of Tempt
I laughed. “Exactly. Soon you’ll be senile, and you won’t even remember your name.”
“But I’ll remember you.”
My face warmed. “Thank you.”
“So how are you?”
“Good. I’m in Detroit, actually.”
“Oh yeah? What are you doing there?”
Settling down a little deeper beneath the covers, I told him about my phone conversation with Alison Obermeyer and the invitation to visit her shop. “I’m meeting her there at eight before it opens,” I said.
“Are you excited?”
“Yes. I have this feeling that my life is about to change,” I confessed. “It’s this feeling in my belly—like when you’re coming down on the Ferris wheel but your stomach stayed up at the top.”
“Is it a good feeling? Do youwantyour life to change?”
“I think so. Yes.” I plucked at a loose thread in the comforter. “I’m happy with my life now, but I think I’ve gotten into a bit of a rut. And to get out of it, I need to make a conscious effort to dream bigger and go for things.”
“I agree. Trust your gut and be brave.” He sneezed twice in a row, and I made a sympathetic sound.
“You poor thing. If I was your neighbor, I’d bring you some chicken noodle soup.”
“That sounds good. You know how to cook?”
“I know my way around the kitchen,” I said. “I’m not as good as Frannie, my stepmom, or my sister Felicity, but I enjoy it. And I love making soup on cold days—chicken noodle, pumpkin, minestrone...”
He groaned. “I wish you were my neighbor too. All that sounds delicious.”
“Do you cook?”
“Depends how you define ‘cook.’ I’m very good at the microwave. I know what all the buttons are.”
I laughed. “How about pots and pans? Own any of those?”
“I think I lost them in the divorce. My best real food-related skill is ordering takeout. I think that’s what I’ll do tonight.”
“What will you order?”
“You made me want chicken noodle soup. I’ll try to find some. Although I’m sure it won’t taste as good as yours.” He blew his nose again.
“Maybe not, but it will be good for you. Got any ginger tea?”
“Is that a real question?”
“Yes,” I said, laughing. “You should drink some ginger tea with honey.”
“I’m fresh out of ginger tea. And honey.”
I sighed. “Fine. But make sure you’re hydrating.”
“Yes, Mom.”
“And get enough sleep! You won’t get better without rest.”
“You were more fun in person. I’m starting to regret calling you.”
