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We walk hand in hand, and I open the door for her, placing my palm on the small of her back. At the hostess stand, she steps into me, getting closer, and I wrap my arm around her waist. Maybe I’m imagining things. She’s had off days even before we were together, and I didn’t give them this much headspace. She’s not going to be in a good mood every day of our life. It could be her dad is on her mind, or she’s worried about the chicken farm.
When the hostess leads us to our table, I pull out Sadie’s chair for her, then fold myself into my own. She reads the menu, and a waitress comes over. I order us a bottle of wine although red isn’t my favorite, but it feels right.
Once we’ve ordered, the waitress brings us the wine.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I ask, staring at Sadie’s full glass of wine.
“I’m fine. I just haven’t been feeling that great today.”
“We could’ve stayed home.”
“No.” Her hand takes mine on the table, squeezing it. “I’m glad we came out.”
“I drew up a blueprint for the chicken coop. Is there anything you wanted to modify on the first one I did?” Maybe talking about the chicken farm will boost her mood.
“I was thinking that maybe we could put a food tray along the one side,” she says.
While we wait for our food, we talk about the chicken coops and what we need to add and remove. How we’ll transport them around the land. And her mood does pick up a bit. She seems excited about making them this winter.
Our food arrives, and Sadie asks the waitress for an iced tea.
When I stare at her confused, she says, “I just don’t want heartburn. Alcohol and red sauce.” She shudders.
I nod, but don’t say anything. I don’t really want to talk about Melody and her bullshit, but I need to know what’s going on in Sadie’s head.
“Melody get home okay?” I ask.
She twirls her pasta around her fork. “Yeah, she texted me. Said she had to go right to the courthouse and change in the bathroom.” She piles the forkful into her mouth.
“She sure is busy.”
She nods and swallows. “Fast-paced life for sure.”
“She has help though.”
She looks at me as though she doesn’t understand.
“The nanny.”
“Well, she can’t do it all, Jude.” Her snippy remark takes me back for a second.
“I wasn’t implying it was a bad thing.”
“Sorry,” she says instantly. “I’m just lost in my own thoughts tonight.”
“About?”
She puts another forkful of pasta into her mouth. I sip the wine, waiting for an answer. No matter what it is, I want to know. I hate being in the dark.
“It’s just everything. It’s been a whirlwind these last couple of months, right? My dad dying, the wedding, me moving in.”
My stomach clenches. “But you’re happy?”
She rolls her eyes. “Why do people keep asking me that?”
“I don’t mean to question it. I’m just curious.”
She sits back in her chair. “I am. I wish people would believe me.” She buries her head in her pasta.
