Page 99 of Charm

Her eyes are wide, her lips parted, and she’s bouncing up and down. “For me? These are for me?”

“Just for you,” he repeats what he said when he first offered the bouquet to her.

“Wowie,” she whispers. “Sometimes Mom gets me flowers or my grandma or grandpa does, but they don’t look like this.”

Holden takes pride in that. I can tell by the way a grin has firmly planted itself on his lips. “I’m glad you like them.”

“Like them?” she asks with a slight shake of her head. “I love them. Thank you, Holden. Thank you to the moon and back.”

“That’s a pretty big thank you,” he says. “I’m happy they make you happy, Olive.”

“Wait.” She stands perfectly still for a second or two. “I have something for you, too. It’s in my pocket.”

She’s about to shove the bouquet back at him, but I take it instead. “Thanks, Mom.”

Her left hand dives into one of the pockets on her dress. When she scoops it back out, a few beads are visibly peeking out from her closed fist.

“I made this myself.” She half-shrugs. “I know we’re not real friends yet, but I think you’ll still like it.”

“We’re friends,” he says with a tender note in his voice. “Some people are instant friends.”

“That’s what we are.” She nods vigorously. “You’re my instant friend, so here.”

Her fist opens to reveal the beaded bracelet. “I put your name on it for you.”

Holden takes it from her. His gaze wanders over the entire thing. He takes a second to run his fingertip across the beads. As soon as he’s done, he slips it on his wrist. “It’s perfect, Olive. Thank you.”

“It kind of matches your sweater,” she comments, stepping closer to him. “I’m really glad you like it.”

“I do.” He looks down at her. “I’ll treasure it forever.”

“That’s a long time,” she says in barely more than a whisper. “If it ever breaks and you need me to fix it, just tell my mom.”

Holden looks at me. “I will.”

“I’m going to put your flowers in some water, Olive.” I motion behind me to one of the lower cupboards. “Why don’t you pick out a vase for them?”

“I’ll do that,” she says before she sprints in that direction.

Holden leans in to lower his voice so only I can hear it. “I think she likes me.”

“She does,” I agree. “Her mom does, too.”

His right eyebrow perks. “This is already shaping up to be the best night I’ve had in a long time.”

“Dinner was delicious.”Holden swipes a linen napkin over his lips.

“I made the salad.” Olive’s hand pops in the air. “I think I did a pretty good job.”

“You did,” Holden says. “Did you help with the roast chicken and sweet potatoes, too?”

“I shouldn’t say, but that was all grandma,” Oliver whisper shouts. “She got it all ready for Mom this afternoon and told her when to put it in the oven.”

Laughing, I own it. “Martha loves to cook. I’m still learning, but she’s the expert around here.”

“Grandma is a very good cook.” Olive nods. “She’s good at sewing, too. She sewed a really pretty dress for me. Do you want to see?”

Since that question is clearly directed at Holden, he nods. “I’d love to see it.”

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