Two weeks after

DATE FOUR

Mr. Oliver lifted his cup to his mouth and took a drink. Sunlight reflected off his glasses as he slightly lowered his head, pulled the cup away from his mouth, and sat it on the table with a shaky hand.

"So, you are Summer's little sister?"

Spring smiled. She and Mr. Oliver spoke for over thirty minutes already. He talked about his wife mostly and she talked about...Dezmond. He was all she could think about still, a little over two weeks later, so she shared. What they didn't discuss yet was who she was.

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry she wasn't able to keep your date."

"If she had, I wouldn't have gotten to meet you." He winked. "How is she feeling?"

Spring moved her stirrer around in her coffee. "Better. She should be out and about within a day or so. She just didn't want to risk your health."

"Mrs. Waltman, please..."

Spring looked past Mr. Oliver to where a nurse was running after a woman who was presumably Mrs. Waltman.

Mr. Oliver said, looking over

see," Spring said then

many residents here can. Pudding nights, it's

pudding. By the way, Mrs. Waltman dodged the nurse,

Oliver, may I ask how

name of Brittney. You see, my wife Clara passed a couple of years before then and I was still mourning. So, in my grief, I made a promise

me to take up dancing with her when she was alive. I needed a partner and I had no friends, so I decided to hire a partner. Your sister and I danced together every other week for three months. The first dance class of that fourth month, Summer refused to

told me all

shrugged. "Do you tell her

shook her

go." Mr. Oliver tapped his leg. "That was two years ago," he said. "I don't dance much anymore. But Summer still visits every other

arm. She raised her chin and moved her head back to look up into the

you push," Mr.

it and Mr. Oliver from under the table. The sky opened up as she ran, pushing the wheelchair as fast as she could to reach the wide French patio doors

Spring said to a woman holding towels just

one,"

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