Page 86 of Riding the High

“Of course you do. Why don’t you follow me. We have some things for you to play with.” Camilla gives Mabel a wide grinbefore turning to say hello to me, wrapping her arms around me like we’re old friends. “You both look so nice.” She pats me on both my shoulders and nods in approval toward Ginger. “Your father will be so pleased.”

I nod, not quite sure what to say, when out of nowhere Edward Danforth moves in beside Camilla, pulling Ginger into a sort of awkward side-hug and kissing the top of her head. Where Camilla is relaxed, he is stiff; he has a cold air and looks as though he’s about to attend a business meeting.

“Darling,”he says. Before extending his hand to me. “Sheriff Ashby. Nice to see you again.”

“Cole, please,” I say.

He nods. “Well, I should tell you, Cole. I didn’t vote for you.”

“Wouldn’t expect you to, sir, seeing as I ran against your legislative director’s husband.” I return his firm handshake with one of my own as Ginger looks like she might die.

“You’ve done your homework,” he says, sizing me up. “Which shows the markings of a good officer of the law. The public seems to like you.”

“Let’s hope they got it right,” I say humbly.

He looks me up and down like I’m the neighborhood villain instead of the county sheriff.

“Time will tell,” he says curtly, before he turns and heads down the hall.

Well, this should be fun.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Ginger

Ishould’ve known Mabel and my nonna would become instant friends. My father also invited his mother, my always cheeky Granny Dan, this evening. She and my nonna are the best of frenemies; they’re always competing for the best grandma award when I love them both equally and for totally different reasons. I stand behind the kitchen island and watch Granny Dan, Nonna and Mabel play Uno in the next room. My father sits at the dining room table with Cole, talking about his intent to crack down on the vandalism of public buildings in the downtown core. I internally laugh at the fact that there are a total of two buildings that have graffiti on, and the designs are actually quite beautiful.

“Do you think she likes the game?” my mother asks as we roll out fresh ravioli sheets.

“Yes, I do.” I smile, before continuing, “You’ve really pulled out all of the stops tonight. Even though I told you ten times over not to make a big deal. This is just dinner.”

She waves her perfectly manicured hand at me. “It’s not very often my daughter brings …” She looks out to the otherroom to make sure no one is listening, then whispers, “… a boyfriend and his beautiful daughter home.”

I instantly feel the pressure of what she is insinuating weighing down on me. The expectation of a future family always creates an overwhelming sense of anxiety in me. Not because I don’t want a family, but because there’s a pressure to give my parents, mostly my father, the kind of family he can brag about to voters. But, tonight, with Mabel and Cole here, it feels like I have teammates in my corner, and that makes everything just a little less crushing.

Both my grandmothers return to the kitchen when their game of Uno is finished, and Mabel runs over to Cole with her coloring book. He helps get her situated at the dinner table while he continues to talk with my father. Granny Dan, always looking for trouble to stir, wanders by me and pats me on the shoulder.

“Quite the looker, CeCe’s brother.” She nods to Cole and winks as she grabs a cloth and begins to swipe leftover flour off the counter and into her hand. “I remember when your grandad was young like that. He was so handsome. I couldn’t keep my hands to myself half of the time.”

“Granny …” I start with a giggle.

“What does CeCe think about all of this?” she asks.

I shrug. “This is a summer arrangement,” I say, loud enough for all the nosy women in my life to hear, but not loud enough to reach the next room, “You all act as though we’re … we’re …”

“Getting married?” My nonna finishes my sentence and laughs before taking to the stove to stir the beef mixture simmering there. She fishes a spoon out of the drawer and tastes it.

“More garlic,mia cara,” she tells my mother.

“You’re crazy,” my mother quips over her shoulder. “It’s perfect.”

Nonna ignores her and Granny Dan passes her the garlic to add to the pot. Grannies unite.

Mabel walks into the kitchen and sniffs the air.

“It smells yummy in here,” she says. “Can I help?”

“Sure. But wash your hands first,” I tell her. “I’m done making the pasta but we have to stuff it now before it cooks in the sauce. You can help me do the hard work.”

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