that it’s all they talk about. Coming to see Uncle Sebastian for his movies.”
“Bet that knocks you down a peg or two, doesn’t it?”
Admittedly, yeah. I mean, they all still live in the town I grew up. People know who they are. Anyone connected with hockey or a fan knows the story of the teacher’s son who’s made it big in the NHL. So yeah, hearing that my nephews only care about my projector screen and fancy chairs is a kick in the gut.
“Keeps me humble,” I tell Gigi. “Besides, the oldest one is seven. He has a few years yet to redeem himself. But I do laugh when he watches my games on TV and then goes and tells his friends about my movie room and nothing about his uncle on TV.”
Gigi pets Bruiser’s back, sliding her hand through his white fur and he gives me a look of complete contentment.
“Is it bad,” I say, getting her attention, “that right now I want to kick Bruiser out of this room and have you all to myself on those chairs?”
She slides me a look full of mischief and promise. “I think that’s something I’ll take you up on after you feed me and take me swimming.”
“Right.” I laugh. We left her house in such a hurry this morning so I could get home we haven’t even had breakfast. “Come with me then. I’m sure I’ve got something I can cook.”
We head back down the long hall that takes us almost straight to my kitchen and again, the stark whiteness of everything feels almost blinding as we reach the large, open space with the kitchen island in full view. There’s a small stack of mail sitting there I haven’t yet gone through outside tossing the divorce decree into my office.
I force myself to focus on the present, on Gigi walking through my house, bottom lip pulled in between her teeth mixed with her eyes wide with wonder and I wonder what she’s thinking.
“Come on. My housekeeper and dog sitter usually stocks up the fridge when I’m gone. There should be plenty to choose from.”
“I’m okay with anything. But I need something before the monster growling in my stomach bursts through. Then we’re all in trouble.”
“We’ll get you taken care of. Bagel and cream cheese? Eggs and bacon? Yogurt? Name your poison.”
I pull open the refrigerator door and scan the contents. I have everything I just mentioned. Rows of Greek yogurt in various flavors. I usually eat a few containers a day with some granola and eggs and even though I should be focused on my diet right now, getting my protein and fats on my day off so I have energy for tomorrow’s game, I’m more focused on taking care of Gigi’s needs.
“Yogurt and a bagel are good.”
I step back and open the door. “You choose then.”
“Your fridge looks like a grocery store,” she says, and that sense of awe flickers in her gaze. “You’re so… organized.”
“Cara just stacks things and puts them away.”
“Well my fridge looks like a mess compared to yours.”
“I thought I wasn’t going to get to tease you about your cleaning habits anymore.”
“You’re not.” She shoves my chest and then grabs a yogurt cup, already peeling off the top before she turns back to me. “But I never said I wasn’t going to tease you about yours.”
“Spoons are in the drawer to the right side of the island. Help yourself. Need coffee?”
“Does a giraffe need a super long scarf?”
“What?” I laugh. It feels like I’m always laughing with Gigi and damn it feels good. “You are… you are something else, Georgia.”
She sticks out her tongue at me and grins. “You’ve said that once or twice, you know.”
“And I’ve meant it every time.” I grab my own yogurt and container of eggs along with some spinach and cheese. An omelet won’t take much work. When I reach for my own spoon in the island Gigi is at the corner, hip to the counter, one leg braced up and the bottom of her foot placed on her knee like she’s in some yoga pose. “I also like you. Even when you stand like a flamingo.”
She snorts and looks down, shrugging unashamedly. “I know. It’s weird.”
“It’s cute. Like everything else about you.”
I kiss the tip of her nose and then get to my breakfast. We need fuel for the plans I have for us today. Lots of fuel. Lots of plans.
Chapter Twenty-One
Gigi
My hand is pressed to the wet, white subway