Chapter 30

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"Smile!" Tim beamed as Billy and I huddled closer on the couch while Tim snapped a photo. "This is great, Lil; thanks!"

"Well, I figured you're traveling more, so you may want to take some pictures to accent all those videos, but I also know you're an instant gratification kind of guy." I smiled as he shook out the Polaroid he had just snapped.

"That's what she said," Billy chuckled from the couch.

"What are you, twelve?" I armed him in the ribs.

"Sorry," Billy murmured at the reprimand.

"Only two left," Tess offered as she handed me a box. I checked the tag to see Billy's familiar scribble as a warmth flushed my face. "And for you," she added as she handed Billy my present.

"It's big," he noted as he shook it.

"And now you're six?" I teased, causing his dimples to pinch his cheeks.

"Same time?" He added with a glimmer in his eye.

I gave him a nod as I began to unwrap my present carefully. Billy tore into his with the enthusiasm of a young child. He had his entirely open and pulled out the gift before I had even opened one end of my present.

"No way." His eyes stayed glued to the box as his head slightly nodded while he inspected it.

"What is it?" Tim's annoyance clouded his voice.

Billy pulled the cane from the box to show the room.

"It's a 1920s walking stick from London," I explained. "It's by Jonathan Howell, rosewood, with a sterling silver end cap and vegetable ivory tip. I made sure to memorize all the information they had on it. I knew you'd want to know."

Billy's eyes were still on the cane, and his head was still nodding slightly. "It's amazing." He let his hand glide over the wood.

"I thought it'd go well with your hats and, you know, how you take care of yourself; you'll probably need it sooner than later."

He leaned it against the couch and pulled me to him. "I love it," he cooed as he kissed my temple. His present spilled from my lap to his, and he picked it up so he could swing my legs over his and set the box back on my lap. "Your turn," he prodded, as he let one of his hands fall to the cane again.

I continued to unwrap the box to find a hatbox with a black beret inside. My fingertips danced over the wool. "I love it." My voice came as a whisper as I tried to prevent the pooling in my eyes from spilling into tears. Hats had been something Billy had shared with his father. It was a fondness he carried close to him. And now he was sharing it with me.

"I picked it up in Laulhere while we were in Paris. I guess that visit to the thrift store and talk of hats stuck with me, too." He dipped his face close to mine and dropped his voice as he explained.

"It's perfect." I pulled it from the box.

"Here," he said as he took it from me. "Look at me." He brushed my hair with his fingers and then fixed the hat on me. "It suits you," he smiled.

"I love it, Billy. Thank you so much."

The pull to each other made us both bow our heads nearer. For a split second, I wanted it; I needed to feel his lips on mine, but just as our lips were about to meet, we both snapped back from the moment.

"Sorry," Billy murmured.

I shook the moment off and spun my legs from his lap. "It's a walking stick." I diverted the tension. "Give it a whirl."

Billy stood up and spun the cane around in his hand. "This is so great." As he spoke, he gave a poke to Tim.

"That's not what it's for," Mary scolded from her chair.

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