Page 51 of Pierced Pages
A person.
Morgan wasn’t allowed to be a favorite anything.
“You must be a mind reader, because that is my absolute favorite soup.”
Morgan tilted her head slightly as she lowered the bag. “You told me that. On the way to the dress shop. I think you were telling me how you’d finished making a big batch of it that morning.”
“You… remembered that?”
Those tingles intensified as her brain tried to wrap around how this tiny gesture seemed so monumental.
“Sure,” Morgan said. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because… well, I don’t know. I just didn’t expect you to remember such a small detail. I doubt anyone else would have.”
But was that true? Melanie or Gerri might remember something so small. Then again, they were already in her tight circle of people closest to her.
Where did that put Morgan?
“Well, I guess that makes me not anyone else.” She said this with a casual smile as if she was unaware of the weight of that sentence and the gesture.
“Thank you,” Danielle said, standing from the couch slowly, braving both her wobbliness and the embarrassment over how she must look. “I really appreciate it.”
“You don’t have to get up. I can leave this on the counter and get out of your hair so you can rest.”
“I’m resting plenty,” she said. “But I don’t want to get you sick, either. I probably already passed this on to you yesterday morning.”
Not to mention exposing the entire book club. She was trying really hard not to feel guilty about passing this around to so many people before she even realized she was sick.
Morgan stretched out her arm. “Tell you what. I’ll keep this length distance. That is, if you want the company?”
Without hesitation, Danielle said, “Yes. I’d like that.”
There was a moment when their eyes locked, and Danielle lost herself. Lost the room around them. Lost every reason she had for why this thing between them couldn’t work.
“Mom, I can’t do it.”
Lila stormed back into the living room with a stack of index cards in her hands. Danielle would have to have a talk with her later about abruptly interrupting conversations.
“What’s wrong?”
Lila waved the cards. “I’m never going to remember this stuff. I’m going to fail this test.”
Danielle could feel the weariness in her own eyes. The soreness in her eye sockets mixed with exhaustion. Her meds were finally helping a little with the congestion and allergies, but she wasn’t sure how many of those study cards she could look at.
“I can help.”
Danielle turned from her daughter to Morgan, once again shocked by this woman in her living room who was quickly entering one of her closest friendship circles. Not that she had a lot of friendship circles. There was basically one. Plus wherever Morgan fit.
“You don’t have to?—”
“I want to,” Morgan said. “If Lila’s okay with that?”
Lila gave an exaggerated sigh. “Yes! Thank you.”
Danielle watched as Lila brought her cards to the nearby dinette table. “Morgan, you don’t have to. Really. I’m fine to help study.”
That was definitely a lie. But she’d make it work. It was her responsibility, not Morgan’s.
