Hmph.
“Ollie seems sweet,” I mentioned, trying one last time. “He’s quite the guy, isn’t he?”
“He’s fine for what he is,” he muttered.
I tilted my head, watching his stare, applying the tip Ollie had shared with me. “You really care for him, don’t you?”
“He was my college professor and now serves as my writing coach—nothing more, nothing less.”
“I heard you laughing with him. You don’t really laugh with a lot of people, but I heard you laughing with him. I didn’t know you had a sense of humor.”
“I don’t.”
“Right, of course,” I agreed, knowing he was lying. “But it did seem as if you two were close.”
He didn’t reply, and that was the end of our discussion. We continued dinner in silence, and when the baby monitor alerted us of Talon crying, we both leaped up to go check on her.
“I’ll get her,” we said in unison.
“No, I—” he started, but I shook my head.
“That’s why I’m here, remember? Finish your meal, and thank you for sharing it with me.”
He nodded, and I went to check on Talon. Her eyes were wide and she stopped crying, the tears replaced by a small smile on her face. It was what I imagined Graham’s grin would look like. As I prepared a bottle for her and began feeding her, Graham entered the room and leaned against the doorframe.
“Is she all right?” he asked.
“Just hungry.”
He nodded and cleared his throat. “Professor Oliver has a loud personality. He’s forward, talkative, and full of nonsense ninety-nine percent of the time. I have no clue how his wife or his daughter put up with his ridiculousness and wild antics. For a man in his eighties, he acts like a child, and oftentimes appears like a well-educated clown.”
“Oh.” Well, at least I knew he disliked everyone equally as much as he seemed to dislike me.
Graham’s head lowered and he stared at his fingers, which he latched together. “And he’s the best man and friend I’ve ever known.”
He turned and walked away without another word, and just like that, for a small fraction of a second, Graham Russell showed me a glimpse of his heart.
Around eleven that night, I finished cleaning up Talon’s room and headed to Graham’s office where he was writing, his focus completely zoomed in on his words.
“Hey, I’m heading home.”
He took a beat, finished typing his sentence, and turned to face me. “Thank you for your time, Lucille.”
“Of course. Oh, and just a heads-up, on Friday I don’t think I can make it. My boyfriend is having an art show, so I’ll have to be there.”
“Oh,” he said, a small twitch finding his bottom lip. “Okay.”
I tossed my purse strap over my shoulder. “You know, if you want, you can bring Talon to the show. It might be nice to get her out and about to places other than the doctor’s office.”
“I can’t. I have to finish these next few chapters by Saturday.”
“Oh, okay…well, have a great night.”
“What time?” he said right as I stepped into the hallway.
“Hmm?”
“What time is the show?”