Page 99 of Someone You Deserve

She grows visibly uncomfortable for just a second, but then I watch her brush it off. “I would love to take the kids here one day.” She looks around the pub. “Not here, obviously. But this little town, to a mountain getaway.”

“They would love that.”

“I mean, I guess I can now. I’m my own boss. The bakery is doing really well, so I can finally afford it.”

I squeeze her hand. “Wewill make it happen. You’re not on your own anymore, Astrid. Okay?”

Her eyes bounce back and forth between mine. “Penn, I’ve never been completely on my own.” For a second, I’m not sure what she’s saying, but she continues. “You’ve always been there for me, but I’mtalking about independence. Even after Brandon died, my mother was helping me survive financially.”

“I didn’t know that. I would have fucking helped you, Astrid. I have plenty of money in the bank…”

“You and I both know that I wouldn’t have taken it.” She’s right. “But you were there for me in other ways, ways that no other man ever has.”

Fuck. Is this where we’re going to discuss Brandon? In a pub with people milling around us?

“You two aren’t from around here, are you?” An old woman comes up to the table, dropping off my burger and fries and Astrid’s fried chicken dinner on our table.

“How’d you know?” I ask her, slightly irritated that our conversation was interrupted, but grateful for the distraction at the same time. That discussion needs to wait until we are back in the privacy of the cabin.

“Just a hunch.” She brushes her gray hair over her shoulder and extends her hand to me. “I’m Dolores.”

“Nice to meet you, Dolores.” I shake her hand and then Astrid does the same.

“And I’m Donald.” An older gentleman steps up beside her, placing two fresh beers on the table. “Dolores’s old man.”

She swats at him, but he leans in and presses a kiss to her cheek.

“Do you two own this bar?” Astrid asks, popping one of my fries in her mouth.

“We do,” Dolores says. “I’d always wanted to run a little place like this, and when we retired up here, the old owners sold it about a year later. Donald turned to me and said, you wanna knock that item off your bucket list?”

“And she thought I was crazy.” We all share a laugh. “We’d just retired, you know? But honestly, it was one of the best things that could have happened to us.”

Astrid and I share a look. Yeah, I’m sure she’s feeling the same way about her decision to buy the bakery. The jury’s still out on my venture, but I have faith I’ll feel the same way one day.

“Astrid just opened up her own bakery,” I say, bragging about her accomplishment since I know she won’t.

Dolores’s eyes light up and she pulls out a chair at our table, taking a seat. “That’s incredible. Congratulations.”

“Honey, let these two eat in peace,” Donald tells her, but Astrid insists she’s free to join us, so I let it happen.

Almost an hour later, the four of us have shared another round of beers, we learn that Donald was a truck driver for forty years, Dolores worked at the post office for thirty, and they’ve been married for almost forty-five years.

“You two aren’t married?” Dolores asks, waving a finger between the two of us.

Our eyes meet and I decide to answer the question for us. “Not yet.”

Astrid’s eyes bug out and then she picks up her beer, drinking instead of remarking on my answer. Dolores picks up on the shift in her demeanor. “Something tells me there’s a story here.”

“There is, but it’s complicated,” I reply.

She leans in closer to Astrid. “If you don’t snatch up this man, someone else will, honey. The way he looks at you? Most people never see a love like that in their entire lives.” Her eyes shift to her husband. “Luckily, I’m not one of them.”

Donald blows her a kiss. “I still can’t stop staring at you, baby. That’ll never change.”

Astrid clears her throat. “You two are very lucky.”

“Luck is only a sliver of what it takes, you two,” Dolores adds. “It takes a lot of work, but when you have someone who supports you through thick and thin, it doesn’t feel like work.”

---