Page 22 of Threads of Kindness
Maggie and Susan exchanged a look full of affection.
“This is incredible,” Susan whispered. “Where did he find this? It looks handmade.”
“It is,” Aaron said. “John designed it and had it custom-built.”
Susan pressed a hand to her chest. “Mom, you had no idea?”
“None,” Maggie said, shaking her head. “That man can keep a secret.”
“He most certainly can,” Susan said, grinning at Aaron. “Should we tell him?”
Aaron nodded.
John backed out of the little house, Julia right behind him.
Susan’s eyes shimmered with emotion. “We have one more gift,” she said. “It’s not a physical gift—at least not yet.”
John looked at her, puzzled.
“You love being a grandfather. Would you like to do it again?”
CHAPTER 10
Gordon pulled back Anita’s chair and offered her his elbow. The elegant couple, she in loden green velvet that kissed her ankles and he in a tailored black suit with a black shirt and tie, exited the dining room of The Mill. Other diners followed their progress with admiring glances.
“What a fabulous meal! That’s the best beef Wellington I’ve ever had,” Anita said. “Though I’m sure it pales when compared to what you’ve had in New York.”
“I was about to say the same thing about the Wellington,” Gordon said. “The service was impeccable, too, and the chef handled every dish perfectly.”
“So Westbury isn’t the sleepy backwater I think it is?”
“Not in the least,” Gordon replied. He placed his free hand over hers as they strolled toward the lobby. “Have I told you how stunning you look? That green velvet dress is perfect with your eyes. And to think you were worried about having nothing to wear.”
“I’d forgotten about this dress,” she said. “To tell you the truth, this is the first time I’ve worn it, and I’ve had it for years. Someone brought it into my shop for alterations and never returned to pick it up. Those items typically go on the sale rack,and if they don’t sell, we donate them. But I thought this dress was so pretty, I kept it for myself.”
“You must’ve had a premonition that you’d need it one day.” His eyes twinkled as he looked at her. “That swirly skirt looks like it’s perfect for dancing.”
“It’s called a fit-and-flare style,” Anita said. “And, yes—it would be fun to dance in this.”
“They have dancing in the ballroom tonight,” Gordon said. “The Mill has hired a ten-piece orchestra to play big band music from nine until midnight.”
Anita squealed. “You’re kidding me!”
“I didn’t know if you like to dance,” Gordon said with a smile. “But I reserved a table for us in case you’d like to check it out.”
Anita stopped walking and tugged on his elbow, pulling them both to a halt. “Pinch me,” she said. “I must be dreaming.”
Gordon chuckled. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
“It’s a yes times a thousand,” she said, her voice trembling with joy. “My ideal man? That’s you, Gordon.”
He led her to the ballroom.
Anita peered around Gordon’s shoulder while he gave his name to the host. The band was playing“One O'clock Jump” by Count Basie. At nine thirty, the dance floor was already crowded.
The host checked off Gordon’s name on his list and led them around the outskirts of the dance floor to a small round table on the far side of the room. Gordon slipped the host a folded bill and pulled out Anita’s chair for her.
A server arrived with water and asked for their drink order.
