Once Upon a Date - Susan Hatler Page 0,26

clapped my hands together, and then composed myself again to type: I’m in. Just tell me when and where.

****

Brooks had told me to wear whatever was comfortable, and I had to admit I was intrigued. He’d arranged the date for the following evening, which was good. After only one night of not seeing him I was already missing him (not that I’d admit that to anyone).

“Welcome to chez Keller.” Brooks stepped back to let me in, and I walked into his condo.

I inhaled appreciatively. “Mmmm, something smells good.”

Brooks’ condo was gorgeous with a capital G. Warm and cozy, it had floor to ceiling bookshelves filled with books along one wall, throws draped across the couches, and an old rocking chair in front of the window.

Brooks saw me looking at the rocking chair. “It was my grandmother’s. She used to sit in this chair and read stories to me when I was a kid. Now, whenever I want to escape for a while, I sit in her chair with a good book and lose myself for a few hours. I love it, especially when it rains, which isn’t that often so it’s special.”

“Just like our visit to the book store,” I said, watching him gesture toward the big window behind the rocking chair. I could just imagine how cozy it was sitting there, as the world fell silent to all but words in my mind and flames crackling in the fireplace.

After taking my jacket, Brooks told me to make myself comfortable, and disappeared into the kitchen. The smell was making my tummy rumble, and after a few minutes he called me to the table. Ever the gentleman, he pulled out my chair and waited for me to sit before going back to the kitchen, returning with two big steaming bowls in his hands.

“I made alphabet soup for dinner.”

I looked at my bowl and laughed, slightly confused. “Um . . . I can see that.”

He grinned. “Don’t judge a book by its cover. It’s my signature dish and it’s been cooking for a good long time. You’ll love it.”

He wasn’t kidding. The hot broth was delicious, beefy and robust, with tiny pieces of diced vegetables floating among the pasta letters. I broke off a piece of crusty bread and Brooks proudly informed me that it was homemade. It went perfectly with the soup.

“Someone might think you are trying to impress me, Mr. Keller.”

He looked intently at me. “Maybe I am.”

I smiled. “Do you specialize in alphabet soup, so you always have something to read, even when you’re eating?”

He gave me a serious look. “I used to help my grandpa make this soup when I was a kid.”

I nodded. “I remember your grandpa. How is he?”

He stopped eating for a moment. “He died a couple of years ago.”

Oh, no. Me and my big mouth. “I’m so sorry, Brooks. I had no idea. He was a lovely man. What did he . . .?” I trailed off, not sure if asking how he had died was inappropriate or not.

“He had Alzheimer’s, but died due to an infection.”

I reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry, Brooks. I know how close you two were.”

He smiled, a faraway look on his face. “When Grandpa went into a home, I would spend every Thursday with him there. On his good days, I’d get to take him out for a couple of hours. On his not-so-good days we would stay in, and we’d make alphabet soup together. It always helped him to remember who I was.”

I didn’t know what to say. I felt desperately sad for Brooks, and sad also at the loss of such a lovely, kind-hearted man. “You know, I was always a bit jealous of your family,” I admitted.

He looked at me, surprised. “Really? Why? I mean, you had the perfect family.”

I looked at Brooks and took a sip of wine, shaking my head ever so slightly. He’d opened up to me about his grandfather, and I felt like I needed to open up a bit and reveal something of my own life, something he didn’t know.

“Well, not quite perfect . . .”

He cocked his head to one side, but didn’t say a word, waiting for me to go on in my own time.

“I tried to hide it, but life was actually difficult for me growing up. My parents had a tempestuous relationship, and there was a lot of arguing in my house. They only stayed together for me, apparently, something which I