Chapter Nine

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"Well, he seems. . .nice." Charlie said in a suggestive way once Finn was far enough down the street.

Millie only nodded, not knowing really what to say about the guy that had made her mind feel like jumbled alphabet soup for the second time in two days. She wasn't sure what exactly she was feeling. She refused to believe that she felt something romantic towards him but the tiny objective portion of her brain was rolling its eyes at the way she was finding excuses for all of her body's responses to him.

When her heart skipped a beat upon seeing him, she told herself it was because she liked meeting new people. When her stomach flip flopped at his voice, she told herself it was because it had soothing tones and it wouldn't matter who it was coming from. When her heart fluttered at the way he was so attentive to Louisa, she told herself she was just overly delighted to see her daughter being her more vibrant, authentic self, and not because she found the natural fatherly instincts to be attractive in this mysterious man she just met.

Yet that objective part of her brain that she was always trying to suppress these days, was throwing up its arms and screaming at her that she did like him. And not just in a friendly way. It was like a foghorn right up against her ear.

"What, you don't think so?" Charlie asked, "You were smiling so hard back there that I think you'll probably be sore tomorrow."

"Oh, please, Charl,  spare me the dramatics." she said. "I'm always happy when Lou is happy."

Charlie gave his head a small, disbelieving shake, "I wasn't accusing you of anything."

Peering at him, she saw something in his hazel eyes that she wasn't expecting. It was like he could read her mind. He looked almost pitying in the way his eyelids drooped, but his irises shone with hope because even though he said he wasn't accusing her of anything, the mere insinuation that he could accuse her of something meant that he knew the inner workings of her mind all too well.

Still, she tried to play it off, "And what is it exactly that you think, I think, you're accusing me of?"

Confusion scrunched the bridge of his nose and he repeated, ". . .what is it that you think. . .I think. . ." He pointed between the two of them trying to puzzle out her words, "Oh—okay." He said in a flash of understanding, "I don't want to say in front of the kids, but that alone should give you enough clarification, dear sister."

A contemptuous snort puffed out of her nose, "You're clearly delusional." she said.

"Whatever you need to tell yourself, Mil." He said, side-eyeing her with a haughty grin.

She rolled her eyes.

Once they got to their usual picnic spot on the grass, several paces away from the short pier that extended fifteen feet into the pond, Millie laid their thick blue quilt out on the ground and Charlie started unpacking the basket of food they had packed. He laid sandwiches out on a plate and set a bowl of cut up fruit next to it. He set a thermos of milk on the bench next to them and got out three cups for himself, Millie, and Louisa. The boys still had bottles in their laps.

After helping Louisa to take off her skates so she could sit more comfortably for their meal, Millie freed her sons from their strollers and they immediately started chasing each other in circles around the picnic blanket, which was completely fine by her. As long as they didn't stray towards the pond or the bustling street, she was happy for them to exert a good portion of their boundless energy.

Louisa on the other hand, was seemingly tired from skating and laid on the blanket, content just staring up at the fluffy white clouds in the sky. She had one arm up in the air with a pointed finger and looked to be tracing the outlines of the clouds she found to resemble things she recognized.

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