A string quartet is playing now, which I quite like. But Jovie prefers pop songs she can do dance routines to over Mozart or Beethoven. Shocker.
“But they’re playing a Taylor Swift song.”
Jovie’s face sours further. “I wish. It’s anorchestra.”
Rose laughs, but it’s not unkind. She never could be. “But listen.” She slowly bops her head along to the music and softly sings under her breath. Something about going where you go and always being this close.
Jovie’s eyes light up. “What? I didn’t know that!”
Neither did I. Glad I didn’t say anything to Rose about the “Mozart” piece the group is playing. I would have proven I know as little about culture as my niece. Possibly less.
“Their name is The Invisible String Quartet,” Rose says. “I think maybe Taylor’s stuff is all they do.”
Jovie swivels her head to spot Luke. “I love this music!”
He raises his eyebrows. “You just told me you don’t like old people music.”
“Dad!” She playfully shoves him. “I didn’t know it was good music then.”
“I see.” He nods at her. “Order your drink so we can get back to Grandma and Granddad.”
I expected my family to be drawn to our cart like so many moths tonight, but apparently they’re exercising previously untapped wells of self control. If I know them, they’re saving it up for the right time. Like predators lying in wait for the injured antelope to walk by.
Jovie asks Rose for her ubiquitous strawberry milk. It’s one of the few items on our menu without caffeine, and a big hit with kids. Like most things in the coffee shop, I have Rose to thank for that.
“Grandma told me not to ask you any questions and to just be nice.” Jovie drops both her forearms on the table, gazing up at Rose. “She said we don’t want to overwhelm you.”
Rose shines with amusement as she prepares the drink. “That’s very sweet of her.”
No wonder my family’s been scarce tonight. I’ll have to thank Mom later.
“Do you think questions are overwhelming? Because I don’t. I like them. I like to talk. Dad says I was born yapping.” She rolls her eyes. “But my teacher only had to give me a warning once or twice for talking too much in class this year. That’s not so bad, right? Three times maybe, but that’s all.”
Rose passes over her drink. “I used to get in trouble for talking in class, too.”
“Really?” Jovie grabs onto this news as if they just bonded for life. “Are you coming?—”
She must remember Mom’s warning and swallows down her question. A second later, her eyes sparkle like Lucy’s when she’s about to give me crap for something.
“Sunday dinners at Grandma and Granddad’s are so fun, aren’t they, Uncle Reed?”
Yep. She and my sister are two little soul twins.
“We have the best time, talking and laughing and eating good food. And everyone’s invited. Especially anybody special to us. Like a girlfriend.” She bats her eyelashes at Rose in case we’re all idiots. “If anybody special wanted to come this week, that would be so cool. But not a question.”
This kid with her little fingers wrapped around my heart sure knows how to squeeze.
“All right.” Luke pays for her drink. “You found the loophole in Grandma’s rules.”
She scoops up her drink, beaming over her cleverness. “I’m just telling Rose about dinner. I didn’t ask at all.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Anyway, Uncle Reed is the one who should ask her.” She points at me with her arm extended, like a villager calling out a witch. “Did you ask her to come to dinner?”
“I thought you weren’t supposed to ask questions,” I say.
“That was only for Rose.” She flashes the smile she uses when she’s won a game over me. Triumphant yet vaguely threatening.