I almost canceled when Daniel stepped out of his car.
He was too handsome.
That was my first ridiculous thought.
Not kind-looking. Not safe-looking. Handsome.
He was too handsome.
Tall, broad-shouldered, dark-haired, with sunglasses pushed into his hair and a white shirt rolled neatly at the sleeves. He moved like the walkway belonged under his feet.
I stood on my porch in my blue sundress, gripping the doorframe.
The dress had faded from years of washing. Comfortable. Soft. A little tighter around my waist than it used to be before three pregnancies and 15 years of family dinners where I ate last.
I had changed outfits six times before putting the blue dress back on.
The dress had faded from years of washing.
Daniel smiled when he reached the steps.
“Maggie?”
My mouth moved before sense could stop it.
“I’m sorry. I don’t look like my photos anymore.”
He paused.
Not long enough to be rude.
Long enough for me to hear myself.
Then he said, “You apologized before you introduced yourself.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t look like my photos anymore.”
I laughed because there was nowhere else for my embarrassment to go.
“Sorry. Hi. I’m Maggie.”
His expression changed slightly at the second apology.
He held out his hand.
