Page 22 of Motivating Mira
I bit back my smirk. “Told you.”
“Okay. Okay. But, Uncle Wes, you forgot number four.” She held four fingers up. “You need a life. Or at least a few dates.”
Cocking my head to the side, I narrowed my eyes on her. “Fine. You got anyone in mind?”
Her eyes shifted to look through the windowpane at her father. “My dad mentioned you have a crush on someone at work. Says you don’t know he knows.”
My eyes darted to Jesse who was making something in the kitchen. “He did, did he?” As soon as she said it, I saw the image of Mira in my mind’s eye.
“Yup, and I think you should go for it.”
“We’ve been having lunch in the cafeteria lately, but that’s all it is and all it can be.”
“Why?”
“We’ve got a past.”
“So. Were you a douche?”
I held up a finger in warning. “No, but we’re different people now.”
“Lunch in the cafeteria isn’t a date, Uncle Wes.”
“You’re right but it’s the only way I can make sure she remembers to eat without coming across heavy handed.”
“But youareheavy handed. I doubt that’s new to her.”
I scoffed. “Am not.”
She snorted. “Is that why you broke up?”
“No, she liked me bossy.”
“Well, then show her you’re still that guy, don’t pretend you’re someone else.”
Damn. She made sense.
“Who is she?”
“I met her a few years ago when I stayed with your dad after a medical conference. She’s a sweet woman who comes to the ER with her mother a lot. Her mom’s been admitted so she’s at the hospital all the time right now.”
“Her mother’s sick?”
I nodded, looking at her cautiously. “Cancer.”
She swallowed hard. “Is it terminal?”
“It is.”
She took my hand, folding her smaller one into mine. “Uncle Wes?”
“Hm?”
“Maybe she needs you as much as I do and doesn’t know how to ask.” She sighed.
I grunted thoughtfully for a moment. “I’m starving. Can you please go apologize to your dad so we can go out to dinner?” I lifted my head to see what Jesse was doing. “I don’t know what he’s attempting to cook, but the culinary part of his brain isseverely underdeveloped, and I don’t know about you, but my tastebuds are not interested in being his guinea pig anymore.”
“Let’s go to Saffron!” she said, excitedly sitting up and almost knocking us both out of the hammock. “I’m dying for Indian. I miss all the ethnic food back home.”
