Page 9 of Come to Me

Tate’s little face scrunched like he was considering the optimum punishment. “I’d make you fix it.”

“Do you know how to fix a window?”

“No, but my aunt and grandpa might. And my dad. They fix up old cars. Maybe they can teach me.”

Patrick set his hand on Tate’s shoulder. “Sounds like a good start. Listen, I’m new here and I’m hungry. Do you know where I can get some food?”

Tate nodded enthusiastically. “My grandma makes it. Come on.”

Micki’s breath caught when Tate took Patrick’s hand and led him to the house.

“Good morning, Michaela,” Patrick said as he passed her.

“Morning.” She watched him, wondering if this was the same man she met the day before.

“That’s my Aunt Micki. She can skip a rock and have it bounce forever.”

“No kidding. I’ve never skipped a rock.”

“Never?” Tate looked up at Patrick horrified.

“Maybe you can teach me.”

Micki followed them inside, joining her mother, who watched Tate and Patrick with the same shocked expression.

“Good morning, Mrs. Kincaid.”

“Please call me Lori. Good morning, Dr. Andres.”

“Patrick.”

“Is that your name?” Tate said climbing into his chair.

“Yes. What’s yours?”

“Tate. I’m seven. How old are you?”

“Thirty-six.”

“Aunt Micki, you’re that age, right?”

“I am not!” Realizing that her reaction might make it sound like thirty-six was old, she took a breath. “I’m twenty-nine.”

Her mother snickered. “You know in Sense and Sensibility, Marianne called Colonel Brandon infirm, meaning old, and he was thirty-six.”

“Mom!” Micki glared at her.

“I feel infirm a lot.” Patrick winked at Tate.

For a man who lacked a personality yesterday, he was good-humored today. Perhaps he’d just been hot and tired.

“My dad is old too.”

“He’s not old, Tate,” Lori said. “I’m old.”

“I’m older.” Joe joined them at the table. “Good morning, Dr. Andres.”

“Good morning.”

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