Page 153 of Choosing You

“You can cook? I didn’t know that.”

“I didn’t say I was great at it, but I can put stuff together and make a meal. Why are you asking me all this?”

“It’s just that when I go to your house, it’s like a different world with all the hired help. It doesn’t really seem like your type of lifestyle.”

“Yeah, I don’t want to live that way. We didn’t have all those people working for us until after my mom died. But we also lived in a much smaller house back then.”

“Is it around here? Your old house?”

“It’s in the next town, like 20 minutes from here.”

“Could we go see it?” I say it, but then realize that I probably shouldn’t have. “Never mind. We don’t need to.”

“We have some time to kill. We can drive by it. I haven’t been back there since we moved.”

“Forget it. I shouldn’t have suggested it. It’ll just remind you of her.”

“It’s okay. I like being reminded of her. And I’d like to see the house. Come on. Let’s go.”

* * *

The townwhere he used to live reminds me of the small towns in Iowa. It has a white steeple church and a town square with little shops all around it. He drives down a winding road that leads to a neighborhood. I’m surprised he even remembers how to get there.

He stops at a two-story brick colonial style house. It’s big, but not even close to the size of his current house. This one looks like a normal house, not a mansion or an estate. A tall maple tree stands in front and well-groomed bushes line the sides.

“This is it,” Garret says, parking on the side of the street. “I used to climb that tree all the time. I fell out of it and broke my arm. Twice.”

“It’s a nice house. Let’s get out and walk around.”

“Why? I thought you just wanted to drive by.”

“We drove all the way here. Let’s check out the neighborhood.”

“Okay.” He turns the car off and races over to open my door. I get out before he gets there. It’s sweet that he opens my door, but not always necessary.

We stand in front of Garret’s old house and he points to an area by the front porch. “My mom used to have this huge flower garden all along there. And she always filled the window boxes with flowers. She loved flowers.”

“I think I would’ve really liked your mom,” I tell him.

“She would’ve liked you, too.” He takes my hand as we stroll down the tree-lined street.

“This is a nice neighborhood. I’d like to live on a street like this someday.”

“Me too.” He smiles at me as if I was hinting at something.

“No. I didn’t mean . . . I’m just saying that it feels safe here. Like you could let your kids play outside and not worry.”

He smiles again. “And how many kids do you plan on having, Jade?”

I stop walking. “What? No. I wasn’t talking about me. It was just a general statement. I’m not having kids. I don’t even like kids.”

“You like Lilly.”

“Yeah. But she’s the exception to the rule.”

“If you had your own kids, you’d like them.” He pulls on my hand and we continue down the sidewalk. “I’m going to have three kids.”

“Three? You’ve just decided this? Don’t you think you should wait until you’ve consulted with the woman who’s having these kids with you?”

---