Read Online Searching for Home (Spies of Chicago Book 1) by Jessica Keller - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jessica Keller
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You know?”
His lips pulled again, but this time sadness framed the edges. “You do know—don’t you, that even if every single one of your ancestors turns out to be traitors or worse, that doesn’t define who you are?”
Nate didn’t know what he was talking about. Who knew what lessons her ancestors could teach her? Whitney’s mother’s life served as a cautionary tale: seek out a good man or end up like her. Which was why she needed to stay with Owen. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—end up like her mom.
“Who knows?” She shrugged. “It’ll depend on what we find.”
Their food arrived. Whitney slapped a generous amount of butter on the waffle, making sure a little melted into each square indent. She followed that with a river of syrup, then took the first bite, closing her eyes to savor the perfection that could pass for a dessert.
When she opened her eyes, Nate shook his head, teasing her. “Don’t you know the saying goes that if you don’t pray over your food before you eat it’ll make you sick?”
“I think God’ll forgive that one small bite. Besides, I’m sure they’re eating waffles in heaven right now.” She laid down her fork and dabbed her mouth with a thin napkin.
Nate reached a hand across the table, she placed hers in his, and he bowed his head. Suddenly, the pulse in her wrist took on a life of its own, hopefully Nate couldn’t feel the rapid beating.
“God, we know you’re a miracle worker, so we ask your blessing over this horribly unhealthy food we’re about to eat. Please forgive Whitney for her lack of patience … no really, in all seriousness, bless our time together and our conversation—”
Bright Eyes blared, and Whitney’s phone rattled on the tabletop. “Sorry,” she whispered as she snatched the cell up and muffled the sound.
“And while we’re at it. Forgive Whitney for having her phone turned up so loud, but at least has a cool ringtone. In your son’s name we ask all these things. Amen.”
“I’m sorry.” She glanced at the screen. One missed call. Owen . She tucked the phone into her giant purple purse.
“I’m kidding.” Nate bit into his turkey sandwich, croissant flakes showered onto his plate. “But, Bright Eyes , huh?”
Whitney swallowed the rest of her waffle. “I’m surprised you’ve heard the song. It’s from this cartoon movie I use to watch—”
“ Watership Down ?”
She set her mug down with a clang. “How did you know? Most people haven’t even heard of it.”
That easy smile came back to light his face. “It’s my favorite book.”
“Mine, too. I owned one of the original hardback copies.” She leaned back into the red plastic cushion.
Nate held up a hand while he finished swallowing a fry. “The one with the two rabbits outlined on the front. The title looks like it’s on a sign in their field and the grass is real long, right?”
“That’s the one.” Done with her waffle, she laid down her fork. “I’ve never met someone else who’s read it.”
“Seriously? A bunch of misfits striking out into the dangerous world and leaving all they’ve ever known. Learning who they are through their circumstances and realizing their value to the group. Self-sacrifice, striving for a dream, working for the better of someone else, the book’s all about a successful human journey really.” He tossed and arm over the back of his booth, with his other he gestured as he spoke.
She toyed with the salt shaker. “You’re preaching to the choir. I just wish I still had my copy. When I went to college, my oh-so-helpful mother packed up all the books I left and sold them, two dollars a boxful.” During one of Mom’s many moves she’d done away with most of Whitney’s belongs. “When I found out it felt like I’d lost a best friend.”
Nate winced. “That’s tragic, but we can fix it. There’s a book store close to the Foundation. We should stop by there before it closes tomorrow.”
“Maybe.” Whitney
His lips pulled again, but this time sadness framed the edges. “You do know—don’t you, that even if every single one of your ancestors turns out to be traitors or worse, that doesn’t define who you are?”
Nate didn’t know what he was talking about. Who knew what lessons her ancestors could teach her? Whitney’s mother’s life served as a cautionary tale: seek out a good man or end up like her. Which was why she needed to stay with Owen. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—end up like her mom.
“Who knows?” She shrugged. “It’ll depend on what we find.”
Their food arrived. Whitney slapped a generous amount of butter on the waffle, making sure a little melted into each square indent. She followed that with a river of syrup, then took the first bite, closing her eyes to savor the perfection that could pass for a dessert.
When she opened her eyes, Nate shook his head, teasing her. “Don’t you know the saying goes that if you don’t pray over your food before you eat it’ll make you sick?”
“I think God’ll forgive that one small bite. Besides, I’m sure they’re eating waffles in heaven right now.” She laid down her fork and dabbed her mouth with a thin napkin.
Nate reached a hand across the table, she placed hers in his, and he bowed his head. Suddenly, the pulse in her wrist took on a life of its own, hopefully Nate couldn’t feel the rapid beating.
“God, we know you’re a miracle worker, so we ask your blessing over this horribly unhealthy food we’re about to eat. Please forgive Whitney for her lack of patience … no really, in all seriousness, bless our time together and our conversation—”
Bright Eyes blared, and Whitney’s phone rattled on the tabletop. “Sorry,” she whispered as she snatched the cell up and muffled the sound.
“And while we’re at it. Forgive Whitney for having her phone turned up so loud, but at least has a cool ringtone. In your son’s name we ask all these things. Amen.”
“I’m sorry.” She glanced at the screen. One missed call. Owen . She tucked the phone into her giant purple purse.
“I’m kidding.” Nate bit into his turkey sandwich, croissant flakes showered onto his plate. “But, Bright Eyes , huh?”
Whitney swallowed the rest of her waffle. “I’m surprised you’ve heard the song. It’s from this cartoon movie I use to watch—”
“ Watership Down ?”
She set her mug down with a clang. “How did you know? Most people haven’t even heard of it.”
That easy smile came back to light his face. “It’s my favorite book.”
“Mine, too. I owned one of the original hardback copies.” She leaned back into the red plastic cushion.
Nate held up a hand while he finished swallowing a fry. “The one with the two rabbits outlined on the front. The title looks like it’s on a sign in their field and the grass is real long, right?”
“That’s the one.” Done with her waffle, she laid down her fork. “I’ve never met someone else who’s read it.”
“Seriously? A bunch of misfits striking out into the dangerous world and leaving all they’ve ever known. Learning who they are through their circumstances and realizing their value to the group. Self-sacrifice, striving for a dream, working for the better of someone else, the book’s all about a successful human journey really.” He tossed and arm over the back of his booth, with his other he gestured as he spoke.
She toyed with the salt shaker. “You’re preaching to the choir. I just wish I still had my copy. When I went to college, my oh-so-helpful mother packed up all the books I left and sold them, two dollars a boxful.” During one of Mom’s many moves she’d done away with most of Whitney’s belongs. “When I found out it felt like I’d lost a best friend.”
Nate winced. “That’s tragic, but we can fix it. There’s a book store close to the Foundation. We should stop by there before it closes tomorrow.”
“Maybe.” Whitney
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