Chapter Thirty-Four

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It's 10 a.m. the next day, and I'm at the park watching Lucy in the playground with her little friends from preschool.

I'm holding coffee in my hand, tired beyond belief after the long night I had. I have no idea how this tiny girl has so much energy left in her. My family just arrived back home around 8 in the morning, long after Jonah returned to his motel room to get his stuff and catch his morning flight. Apparently, he truly didn't expect to run into me at the reunion even if he was hoping so, he didn't even plan to stay more than one night in town.

I try to keep my bleary eyes trained on the playground. To my relief, I think she's starting to tire herself out already, because she's finally splitting up from the other toddlers and walking toward where I'm sitting.

"Drink?" I offer her bottle to her, and she nods. She gulps it down like she hasn't had water in years, and I have to remind her to take it easy. "You having fun, small pie?" I ask once she's returned the bottle to me.

She nods again, more enthusiastically. Her brown curls bounce from the sides of her head. "I got on the swing! Vee push me but then I push me on the swing and I go wheee! Did you saw?"

I help her up to sit next to me on the bench. "Did I see you on the swing with Vera? Of course I did. Were you scared you were going to fall?"

"A little," she shrugs. "When I go up and then back down, my tummy feels funny. But good funny."

I smile. "Yeah? You had butterflies in your stomach?"

"Funny tummy," she giggles when I tickle her stomach.

"Alright, pumpkin. Do you wanna go and play again? Or do you wanna sit here with me?"

"Hmmmm," she hums, tilting her head to the side like she's deeply thinking about it. "It's really sunny. Maybe tomorrow we go again?"

"Sure thing. We can go again tomorrow. Maybe bring Uncle Cole with us. Do you think you can push him off the swings?"

Lucy giggles again. "But he's too big! You push with me."

"Of course. I'll help you push him on the swing. Not too hard—we don't want him to fall, do we?"

"Be careful when I play, so no boo-boo." She shakes her head no. "Mama, I want ice cream."

"Oh, that's funny, because I was just about to ask if you want ice cream before we go."

We walk toward the ice cream parlor that's on the other side of the park, her little hand happily dragging me as we talk about what she did at my grandparents'—her great-grandparents'—house yesterday. She tells me that she was feeling a little bit shy when she met some of our extended family for the first time—my mom's sister and some of my cousins who were also there—and I tell her that I'm proud of her for feeling brave despite her aversion to strangers.

Lucy and I cross the street, and I point at the shop when she impatiently asks me if we're there yet. It's only three buildings away from the coffee shop we're standing in front of right now.

And that's the exact moment that the door to the coffee shop opens, and out walks Jonah Gibbs carrying a paper bag in one hand and coffee in the other. He stops when he sees me, wide-eyed and probably matching my own expression.

Puzzled, I greet him, "Jonah? I thought your flight to LA..."

He looks a bit sheepish. "Hey, Hannah." I finally notice that he looks a little rumpled. He's not wearing the same shirt from last night, but his hair is a mess and he seems half asleep. "Yeah. So, I accidentally fell asleep after taking a shower. And I totally missed my flight."

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