Page 99 of Ghost

Abby

George’s diner was frigid. While I waited for him to greet me, I sat on my hands, hoping to warm them up. When he arrived at the table, he was overly excited to see me.

He sat down across from me and motioned toward my lap. “Why are you hiding your hands? Let me see your hands, Abby.”

“They’re cold.”

“Let me see them.”

“What is wrong with you?” I gave him a look. “I’m not hiding anything.”

“Let me see them.”

I raised my hands. “It’s like Antarctica in here.”

He looked my hands over and then sighed.

“What?”

“Well, you’ve been talking about a tattoo, I thought maybe you got one.”

“On my hand?”

He shrugged. “Hand, wrist, arm. Who knows.”

“No new revelations?” he asked.

“Like what?”

“Anything.”

“Nope. Just laying around. Trying to feel better. All I can eat is pancakes.”

“Where’s Porter?”

“Making his rounds. Seeing Baker and checking the pumps on the carwashes in Oceanside.”

He rested his chin in his hands and looked me over, smiling the entire time.

I giggled. “You’re acting weird.”

“Do you want children?”

It seemed like a strange time for that specific question, but I liked that he asked it. “I do,” I said. “Three.”

“Boys? Girls?”

“Some of each. I don’t care. But I want one in the middle, and one on each end. Maybe the boy would be oldest, so he could protect the other two.”

“Porter and I were talking the other day. Might not be my place to tell you, but I’m doing it anyway. He wants kids. The thought of you two having kids excites the hell out of me. They’d be like grandkids to me.”

My heart swelled. “He said that?”

“He sure did.”

We hadn’t talked about it, but I’d hoped he wanted children. Having children with him would be the best gift ever. I could see us spending all our time on the beach building sandcastles and teaching them to surf.

“I like thinking about that.”