Page 15 of Under the Influence

“But then, you couldn’t eat it because of your strong dislike for garlic.”

Edith’s frown flattens out into a pout. “I find you very attractive.”

“Then, why are you so grumpy tonight when you should be enjoying the view?”

Shrugging, Edith looks at the drinks the waitress places before us. Once we’re alone again, she sighs.

“Tuesday is loud and dramatic.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed that.”

“She wants people to think she’s fun.”

“Does it work?”

“Yes, but I don’t want people to think I’m fun. I want people to respect me. My pa is a Mooney. He might ride with the club, but he has a strait-laced side. My ma is the Earlham daughter who doesn’t fuck about. She’s levelheaded and will punch people who cause trouble,” Edith says and scrunches her nose with irritation. “We’re the straight men in the family. We act normal, so the weirdo homestead members can gasp and faint and yell out dumb declarations. Being sensible is my thing like being a loudmouth is Tuesday’s thing.”

“And you think that means you need to be grumpy?”

“I’m grumpy because I can’t have what I want,” she mutters, sounding miserable. “Why should I suffer in silence? If I was Tuesday, I’d stand on the table and holler about my feelings.”

“And what do you want?” I ask when she moves like she might leave.

“What everyone gets in my family.”

“A fainting couch?” I ask, having heard Tuesday yell for one once.

Edith’s gaze reveals zero amusement. “No, a husband and kids. I’m older than Tuesday, yet she drama-whored her way into a good man and a step-kid. Meanwhile, I spend my nights alone.”

Before she can scoot her ass out of the booth and take off, I stand and slide into her side. With my body keeping her trapped in her spot, I exhale hard.

“You’re sending the wrong signals.”

“What the frick does that mean?” she hisses in a tone dramatic enough to likely win applause from her family.

“Men can sense desperation in women.”

“I’m not desperate.”

“Exactly. That’s your problem. You’re begging for someone to pay attention to you, but I bet many men do. They’re just not up to your standards.”

“I have a right to want someone good.”

“Of course, but you can’t be both picky and desperate. You need to pick a lane. I suggest you choose picky.”

Edith stares at me from the booth’s corner. “I want a man like you.”

“But not me specifically, right?” I ask and reach over to grab my drink. “Me specifically comes with two grown daughters and a family curse.”

With her interest piqued, Edith asks, “What family curse?”

“No one in my family finds love. That’s according to my mom, anyway, and Erin heard it from her mother.”

“But your brother is with that woman in Florida. I heard Tuesday talking about it when she was back with Cubby.”

Exhaling hard, I mutter, “That boy needs to learn to keep his mouth shut.”

“He’s not here, and I refuse to give him that message,” Edith says, scooting closer. “Let’s return to that curse thing.”

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