Page 63 of The Friendly Fall

“Oh no, not the baby photos,” Eliza groans as her granny disappears into another room.

“Oh, c’mon, we’ve got to show Nick here how cute you were as a baby!” her mom teases.

Eliza shoots me a sheepish smile. “Prepare yourself. You’re about to witness the ultimate humiliation.”

“I honestly can’t wait to see.” I smile, taking her hand in mine.

As the sound of rustling papers and muffled laughter drifts from the adjacent room, I can see the mixture of dread and amusement on Eliza’s face. She’s bracing herself for whatever embarrassing childhood memory her Granny is about to dig up.

“Ah, here we go!” Ms. Marilyn exclaims before returning to the dining room table with a dusty photo album in hand. She plops down on the seat next to me, the album open on the table. I lean in closer, eager to catch a glimpse of baby Eliza.

The first photo is of a chubby-cheeked toddler sitting in a pile of colorful books, a wide grin on her face. I feel my heart swell at the sight of Eliza’s chubby cheeks and tiny hands. She was undeniably adorable.

“She was always happiest surrounded by books,” her mom reminisces.

“Istilllove books,” she points out with a smile.

“You were such a cute baby!” Ms. Marilyn gasps, pointing at a photo of baby Eliza at her first birthday party.

“You know, I have to agree. You could’ve been one of those babies pictured on a diaper box.” I nudge her. She playfully swats my arm, rolling her eyes.

As we flip through more pages of the album, I am introduced to different stages of Eliza’s childhood. From her messy spaghetti face at her first birthday party to her toothless grin on her first day of school. Each picture captures a moment in time, a piece of her story that I feel honored to witness.

“This one’s a classic!” her dad exclaims as he points to a photo of a young Eliza covered head to toe in dirt, proudly displaying a freshly dug earthworm in her hands. “Ah yes, my little explorer,” he continues with a smile.

Eliza’s cheeks flush with nostalgia as she recalls the memories associated with each photo. I can’t help but wish I could have been there to witness some of these moments with her.

“You know, you two would make really good-looking babies,” her mom teases, winking at the both of us.

And while I agreewholeheartedly, I can instantly tell Eliza’s feeling a bit flustered by her mom’s comment. The room falls silent for a moment, the weight of her mother’s words hanging in the air.

Eliza’s cheeks turn a deep shade of red as she shoots a quick glance in my direction, her eyes widening slightly.

I clear my throat, trying to ease the tension in the room. “I think we’re getting a little ahead of ourselves here,” I say with a chuckle, shooting Eliza a reassuring smile.

She nods in agreement. “Yes, let’s take it one step at a time.”

“Yeah … c’mon, honey, don’t scare the poor boy away. We wouldn’t want him to bolt before dessert next time,” her dad chimes in, breaking the moment with a hearty laugh.

“Oh, I think it’ll take a lot more than that to scare this one away,” Ms. Marilyn remarks, casting a knowing glance in my direction.

The tension dissipates, and we all join in the laughter. But despite the light-hearted banter that follows, a sense of vulnerability lingers between Eliza and me.

Her eyes meet mine with a mix of embarrassment and something else I can’t quite place.

Is that a hint of longing in her gaze?

The thought sends a surge of hope through me, mingled with a healthy dose of uncertainty.

We share a smile, a silent understanding passing between us, before returning our focus to the photo album.

Chapter Twenty Three

Eliza

“Who’s up for a game of charades?” my dad asks. “It’s a family tradition.”

Nick looks over to me. “That’sawesome!”

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