Page 69 of California Love Songs
“I’m on it,” he told Margaret.
She laughed and patted his shoulder. “I knew I could rely on you.”
And then his dad swept Margaret off to dance.
Nick drained the rest of his sparkling water and went back to observing the party.
Mila stopped dancing with Hershel Greenfield long enough to come by and say, “Nick. That girl in the emerald-green dress has been checking you out all night. Go ask her to dance.”
This wasn’t the first time one of his sisters had told him some girl was interested in him. He was usually oblivious. “Oh,” he said. “Sure.”
And headed over to ask the girl to dance. The green dress was figure-hugging and gleamed. It reminded him somehow of the skin of a reptile. Her name was Brie, and she was fun to dance with.
And then a picture flashed into his brain of a much quieter place than this. A young woman sitting, knitting.
Rosamund. It was an unusual name. It was pretty.
He’d try to make Margaret’s granddaughter feel at home when she arrived in Carmel-by-the-Sea.
