A Taste of Spring

Chapter 15

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.

a runner," Mr. Oliver said, looking over

Spring said then

here can. Pudding nights, it's like a

elderly men and women run amuck at bedtime because they were hopped up on pudding. By the way, Mrs. Waltman dodged

may I ask how long you've

as her client. She was going by the 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

sister and I danced together every other week for three months. The first dance class of that fourth month, Summer refused to take another dime from me. Said that we were

never told me

"Do you tell her

shook her head.

ago," he said.

about to respond when a drop of water hit her arm. She raised her chin and moved her head back to

you push," Mr. Oliver said.

stood just as Mr. Oliver grabbed hold of their drinks. She unlocked his wheelchair and pulled 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 of the assisted living

a woman holding towels just inside

you go, young one," Mr. Oliver

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