Page 67 of Love is Grand

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Page 67 of Love is Grand

I’d warned her not to ask. The dolls were expensive, and he’d already given her so much.

“I love the doll you gave me,” she said to Cal, pretending she hadn’t heard me, I’m sure. “But they have all kinds. Gymnastics dolls and dolls with pigtails, and they do cool things like skateboard and teach. I really want another one because Sandy has two and we could play with them all together ...”

Thankfully her rambling was interrupted by a large black SUV rolling up to the curb and a driver getting out to open the door for us. “Mr. Stern. Ms. Light.”

He quickly took our luggage, which I only just realized Cal had retrieved for us. I’d been so caught up with the kiss, I would have left without it.

“One sec,” Cal told Weezie. “In the car, we’ll finish.”

Which was exactly what we did. After another five minutes of detail on the dolls and that there was a store and a restaurant, Cal was on the phone with his assistant, who I learned was named Duncan, and we had a reservation for lunch the next day at American Girl Dolls.

“Would you like some water?” Cal asked me, leaning forward and taking a bottle that had been chilling in the center console.

“Can I have a sip?” Weezie hollered from the third row where a booster seat had been installed for her.

As we whizzed along busy streets and then through a tunnel into the city, I took in the sights. Looking back at Cal, I asked, “You drive in the Caymans, but not here?”

“No, I use this car service. We have a contract. I don’t even keep a car, but after visiting you, I think it would be nice to have one to get away with around here ... get a chance to breathe fresh air.”

I nodded again as if this was part of my normal life.

Weezie piped up. “Cal, do you have an elevator?”

“I do,” he said to my daughter, who was fascinated with city life. “I live at the top of my building. It used to be a factory with offices above. Now it’s where people live.”

“Do you have Coke?”

Oh, Weezie.

“Sure do.”

“Duncan?” I asked, thinking Cal didn’t grocery shop.

“No, Amber, my housekeeper stocked us up. I gave her the long weekend off, but you may meet her next week. She’s been with me for three years. Tired?” Cal asked me, mistaking my quiet for sleepiness rather than being overwhelmed.

“No, I feel good.”

“Hungry? We can stop for a late breakfast.”

“Yes!”

I didn’t have a chance to get in a word after that because Weezie was asking for pancakes.

Cal asked the driver to take us to somewhere called Sarabeth’s.

After he wowed us there with pancakes and eggs and chocolate milk, we went to Cal’s place, which was the biggest apartment I’d ever seen with views I’d never imagined. Weezie rode the elevator up and down for ten minutes before settling on a chair on his private rooftop deck with a glass bottle of Coke.

“She’s asleep,” I told Cal, who was sitting on the couch nursing a Scotch.

“She was comfortable?”

Sitting at the other side of the sofa, I nodded. “She said her bed was the biggest, fluffiest thing she’s ever seen.”

Weezie was staying in the guest room in a queen-size bed complete with a fluffy off-white duvet and about a thousand throw pillows. I wouldn’t even let her take a cup of water in there.

“I could have made it a little more girly.”

“Stop, Cal. She’s happy. Today was probably the best day of her life.”




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