The Memory Keeper of Kyiv (82)

Cassie leaned closer to the mirror and pulled the skin on the side of her eyes up. “Fine, you can call, but only because my hair is getting too long, and it’s annoying me. Nick’s picking me up at seven, so I’ll need to be back well before then.”

“I’m on it!” Anna sprinted down the hall to the phone.

If her mom had her way, she’d make a manicure and pedicure appointment, too. Cassie sighed. Better to let her focus on this than the journal.

Cassie thought her mom would waver and ask for more information, but she’d stood firm on her commitment. Since then, they’d stuck to light topics, like Cassie’s lack of effort into her appearance and her big date tonight.

“How about a facial?” Anna called out two minutes later, her hand over the mouthpiece of the phone. “Suzy has an opening in an hour. Maybe even a mani-pedi?”





After two hours in the salon, Cassie had to admit, she looked and felt like a new woman. She’d been polished, scrubbed, painted, trimmed, and blown out. To top it all off, when she got home, her mother magically produced three sundresses she’d happened to find on sale the day before that “didn’t fit her”.

“They’re perfect for your build, Cassie, and it would be a big relief if I could pass them on to you and not worry about returning them to all the different stores. Humor me and try them on, will you?”

Cassie sighed and took the dresses back to her room. The first one was a bit small, but the next two fitted well. She left the last one, a light blue and green paisley print, on and rejoined her family in the living room.

“Oh!” Anna clapped her hands and squealed. “I hardly recognize you. You look amazing.”

“Thanks, I guess,” Cassie said, not sure if she should feel offended at the insinuation that she looked terrible before. “I was that bad, huh?”

“Not bad,” Anna hastily corrected herself. “Just not living up to your full potential.”

Cassie stuck her tongue out at her mom and Birdie giggled as the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it!” Anna jumped up. “Go in the kitchen, Cassie, and then make an entrance after I let him in.”

“I’m not doing that, Mom.” Cassie grabbed her purse and walked toward the door. “This isn’t prom.”

Anna scowled at Cassie, and then switched her face into a sunny smile as she opened the door. “Nick! It’s so nice to see you! Come in, come in!”

Cassie smothered a laugh at her mother’s shifting demeanor, and then locked eyes with Nick. His blue eyes sparkled as he beamed at her.

“Cassie, you look amazing.”

“Thanks.” Her face warmed at his compliment. “You clean up pretty well, too.”

“Hi, Nick.” Birdie pulled on Nick’s hand.

“Hey, Birdie.” He squatted down and gave her braid a tug. “How was your day?”

“I helped plant flowers and read my books and went for a walk.” She rattled off her activities as she counted them on her fingers. “It was a long day.”

Nick laughed. “Sounds like it. Well, next time, I promise to bring you along. But since you couldn’t come tonight, I brought something special for you.”

He reached into the bag he held and pulled out an old, tattered Dr. Seuss book. “This one was my favorite when I was a kid. I didn’t see it on your shelf, so I thought you might want to read mine.”

Her face lit up. “I don’t have this one! Oh, I love it. I’ll take the best care of it!”

“I know you will. And I promise to read it to you the next time I come over, okay?”

She clutched the book tight. “Okay, Nick. Grammy, look! Will you read it to me before bed?”

Hearing her sweet voice still made Cassie giddy. She touched Nick’s hand and met his gaze. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure. Shall we?” He held out his arm.





“This place is lovely.” Cassie glanced around the intimate restaurant. Small tables—spaced comfortably apart and covered with white tablecloths—filled the dim space. Fresh roses, showcased in the center of each table, gave the room a sweet fragrance. The waiter guided them to a table next to a large picture window that overlooked the sun setting in the park.

Nick pulled out her chair for her, then sat across the table. The waiter passed out the heavy menus and took their drink orders. Everything was going just as it should for a date. A date. She was on a date.

Cassie started to hyperventilate. She pinched the flesh between her thumb and finger hard under the table and looked down. Pull it together. This is no different than sitting next to him while he translates the journal.

“So, Cassie, in all this time, I’ve never found out what you actually do for a living.” Nick leaned forward, curiosity written on his face.

Cassie locked in on his gaze, and warmth coursed through her. She could do this.

“I guess we don’t talk much about ourselves when we’re working on the journal, do we?” Because my brain seems to shut down whenever you’re around. “I’m a writer. Well, I was a writer. Articles for magazines, mostly. I’ve always wanted to do a novel, but then, with everything last year, I kind of gave up.”

“A writer. I can see that. Maybe inspiration will strike, and you’ll be able to get back into it.”