“What’s in that bag?” Casey was pointing to a bigger bag, purple, not brown like the others.
“A late birthday present.”
“For me?” Casey’s eyes went wide, but she didn’t hesitate.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Paige said.
“I know I didn’t. I just thought she might like it.”
They watched silently as Casey pulled out a small gum-ball machine already filled with colorful balls.
“Thank you!” Casey reached up to hug him and squeezed until he faked a choking sound.
The man was like a thousand strings tugging on her heart. “Thank you. That was really sweet.”
“You’re welcome. They didn’t have sugar-free gum, I hope it’s okay. I remember what a big deal brushing teeth is, and…” He looked embarrassed. “Maybe that wasn’t such a good idea.”
She laid her hand lightly on his upper arm. “It was a great idea. We’ll just have to brush extra good, right, Case?”
“Right.” Casey shook the machine and turned the knob until a red ball fell out.
“But after dinner.”
She poured milk for Casey and iced tea for them. By the time they’d unpacked all the bags, there was a feast laid out before them. Chicken parmesan, chicken marsala, plain spaghetti with red sauce on the side. Lasagna, bread sticks, salad, tiramisu.
“You can sit by me, Jake,” Casey offered.
“I would love to sit by you.” Jake caught the back of the chair she pushed out before it toppled over.
The small table was pushed up against a wall covered in Casey’s art. Crayon drawings and tape. Streams of marker-soaked toilet paper and tape. And a mass of plastic straws and tape.
“She’s artistic,” Paige said, smiling, noting his observation.
“I see that. I could use your decorating services at my house if you have the time.”
“Sure.” Casey beamed up at him like the sun. “I can make you something.”
Minutes later, Casey paused in her eating and let out a deep, dramatic sigh. “Isn’t this a beautiful evening we’re having?”
Paige laughed, choking on her tea, and Jake laughed at her choking. It was a beautiful evening.
Casey kept them on their toes and laughing with her tales of Leon and off-the-wall questions only she could come up with. She quizzed Jake relentlessly. Favorite animal, favorite color, favorite color of gum, did he like pancakes, and on and on it went. Jake answered every one.
Paige got up for refills and peeked into the last bag. She sucked in a long, deep breath at what was inside. “You brought me a cake.”
“Yes.”
She looked up, meeting his brown eyes focused on her. “An entire cake.”
“And you don’t even have to walk for it.”
She bit her lip and stared down at the cake, feeling like a snow globe that had been recently settled, just a few small flakes and sparkles left to drift into place, but was now shaken until nothing was clear anymore.
With extreme effort, she gathered herself and came over to collect their plates.
“I’ll help.” Jake pushed back in his chair.
“No, you cooked. Or brought it,” she added before he could protest.
She cleaned up, using the time to pull it together while she listened to Casey’s laughter, trading silly jokes with Jake and showing off her handstands and cartwheels. She finished and joined them on the floor where they’d pushed the coffee table aside to have more room.
In between acrobatic shows, Jake asked Casey to put on her prosthesis so he could check it again. He was just reaching for the catalogs he’d brought when she popped up, a gleam in her eye. “I’ll be back in a gypsy.”
Jake laughed out loud at the word gypsy, the sound washing over her. Such a great laugh. He didn’t seem nearly as serious as she’d thought when they first met. Maybe it was Casey, maybe she brought out a more playful side in him like he brought out a more confident side in her. If that was the case, she was glad.
Casey was indeed back in a gypsy with some recent pictures she’d drawn. She handed them to Jake and settled herself in his lap because evidently they needed explanation. “See? This is me and this is you and that’s the water.”
“Are we in the ocean?”
“No. It’s just water. I’ve never been to the ocean.”
“It’s on our to-do list,” Paige said when Jake glanced at her.
The picture showed two stick people. One big, one small. Both of them covered to the arms by scalloped blue lines, typical of Casey. She didn’t draw herself often, but when she did, she never drew her legs. She was in the water or in a castle or sticking out from behind a house or a cloud. Paige wasn’t sure if she should make something of it or not.