Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 125135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
“Oh, no. I don’t want to put you out.”
Holden’s jaw flexed. “I insist. Text me the address, and I’ll be there.”
Damn it. This was exactly the reason I’d come to Owen and not Holden. Now I was already excited for the day to end, just because he’d be picking me up. The man was like kryptonite. I forced a smile. “Thanks, Holden.”
Owen put his coffee mug in the sink and thumbed back toward his bedroom. “I gotta finish packing. Sorry I couldn’t help out.” He narrowed his eyes at Holden. “But I’m sure Holden will be on his best behavior when he picks you up.”
Holden glared back at his friend. “Aren’t I always?”
Owen sighed. “Have a good day, Lala.”
“You, too, Owen.”
Left alone with Holden, I motioned toward the door. “I should be running too.”
He nodded. “Don’t forget to text me that address.”
“I won’t.”
“Oh, and Lala?”
“Yes?”
Holden smiled. “Owen’s office is nowhere near a PATH stop. So if you’re going to pretend you’re asking one of the guys because it’s more convenient for them and not because you’re trying to avoid me, you should probably look at a train map first.”
***
“Don’t you worry about that.” Theodore Mills waved me off as I straightened the covers on his bed after helping him up. “My Clara does that. She hides a piece of chocolate every day while making up the bed and pretends it wasn’t her. Been doing it since we were sixteen.”
My heart warmed. “Wow, since you were sixteen?” I walked around the bed and offered my arm. “The nurse said it’s either me or the walker. You don’t want me to get in trouble on my first day here, do you?”
Theo made a face, but took the arm I held out nonetheless. We walked side by side, at a snail’s pace, to one of the lounges and sat down on the couch. Today had been about assessing the participants’ memories, so I’d sat in on some standard tests the neurologist had given each patient—things like being asked to remember a few random words, answering a series of questions for five minutes, and then having to repeat the initial words at the end. But standardized tests didn’t always tell the full story, so I wanted to get to know the subjects a bit more.
“How did you and Clara meet?”
Theo smiled. “We met at a Halloween party. She was dressed as Marilyn Monroe, and I was Joe DiMaggio.”
“Wow. Sounds like it was meant to be from the start.”
“I was smitten the moment she walked in. I’d had my eye on her all night, but she was talking to a vampire. At one point, she took off her shoes. So when she wasn’t looking, I picked one up and held onto it until she was getting ready to leave. I knew she’d have to find it before she went home, and I didn’t want to miss a chance at meeting her, even if it was only to give her back her shoe.”
I laughed. “Oh my gosh. That’s so sweet.”
“When she came looking for it, I knelt down and slipped the shoe onto her foot. She said she felt a little like Cinderella, so I suggested that’s what we come dressed as the next year—Prince Charming and Cinderella—since they found their happily ever after and Marilyn and Joe got divorced.”
“How old were you guys when you got married?”
This was the first time today Theo hadn’t had the answer on the tip of his tongue. His face wrinkled as he tried to remember. Eventually he just shook his head. “When I walked her home that night, I told her my favorite candies were Now and Laters—they made them in a factory in Brooklyn, not too far from where I grew up. The next day when I put on the jacket I’d worn the night before, I found a few in my pocket. My Clara had slipped them in without my knowing. I have a sweet tooth, and she’s been hiding candies ever since.”
Forget Warren and Holden, Theodore Mills might be the man who won my heart. I’d been spending ten or fifteen minutes with each patient today, but I sat and listened to story after story about Theo’s life. There was something so sweet about how he never referred to his wife as Clara—it was always my Clara. At one point, we were both laughing when a woman approached. She smiled warmly.
“It’s good to see my man can still charm the young ladies.”
“He most certainly can.” I smiled and stood. “Your husband has shared so many amazing stories. I’m glad I got to meet you today. I’m Laney Ellison. I run the research study your husband is participating in. You must be Clara.”
The woman’s smile wilted. “Mary, actually.”
“Oh. I’m so sorry. I thought you were Mrs. Mills, Theodore’s wife.”