Page 63 of A Moment for Us
“Even a broken clock is right twice a day,” she says with exasperation.
“Well, I was right this time. Look at you, you’re all grown up and so big and strong. Isn’t he big and strong, Delia?” Mrs. Garner asks, looking over my shoulder.
“Yes, he sure is,” Delia replies with a laugh.
God help me. Mrs. Garner and Mrs. Villafane are complete opposites in every way. From their personalities to their looks and the sounds of their voices. Mrs. Villafane is tall, skinny, and has darker features. Her voice is raspier, and her sarcasm can never be missed. And Mrs. Garner is tiny with a light complexion and an almost musical voice.
The two of them push their way into the house, and I honestly have no idea how it happened. “Come on in,” I say even though they are already in the living room.
Mrs. Garner laughs softly. “That’s so sweet of you. So, are you two a couple now? Bill says that you’ve been together quite a bit lately. I’m just taking a guess since you moved in here that there’s something he’s right about.”
“Oh, please, Kristy,” Mrs. Villafane breaks in. “We know better than to listen to that old goat.” She turns to me. “But are you?”
“Uhh.”
She continues. “I’d like to relay the correct information. Straight from the horse’s mouth, so to speak.”
I turn to Delia, hoping she’ll offer some help, but she just grins. “We’re friends,” I offer an explanation that really doesn’t give any information.
“And what kind of friends exactly? See, I was best friends with my husband.”
“Before he became best friends with her neighbor,” Mrs. Garner adds.
Mrs. Villafane slaps her arm. “You hush. Joshua would never do that to our Delia.”
“No, of course not. He’s nothing like his philandering father. We were so sorry to hear about your parents, but you see, we know that you’re not like Mitchell. He always had wandering hands, but you boys, you’re all good men.” Mrs. Garner nods like the words are gospel.
I’m not sure what part of that to respond to. “Thanks, I think—”
“You’re welcome, honey. Now, tell us. Are you a couple?”
“We’re friends,” I repeat, and I hear Delia snort. I turn to her, eyes wide, pleading for help, but she just shakes her head and shrugs.
The two older ladies share a look and then turn to me. “That tells me a lot.”
“Me too,” Delia agrees and then sips her coffee.
“So, you don’t know what you are either?” Mrs. Garner asks Delia.
“Oh, no, we’re friends.”
Mrs. Villafane turns to me. “We’ll just have to spend some time here today and help you guys figure it out. We’re very good at problem solving. You know, just the other day, we were at Jennie’s, and that Christopher Palmer boy was struggling with what to do about his feelings for Myra Prince. You know her?” I blink a few times, having no clue who she’s talking about. “Anyway, he likes her and . . . are you listening, Joshua?”
“Of course.”
Her lips purse. “Well, as I was saying we helped him out. Took a whole two hours to get him to finally see what we said in the beginning was right.”
Delia grins. “That is so wonderful of you both. I’m sure that Christopher was so appreciative of that advice. And as much as I would just love to sit and chat with you, I have an appointment, and you’d just be doing me the biggest favor if you could help Josh out today.”
“Help?” they both question in unison.
“Yes, help?” I ask.
Delia nods. “I was going to sit with him and talk about all the things that have been going on around here, you know, with the possible break-ins just down the road, but I have to go. Since you both are so knowledgeable about the situation, I was hoping you could help eat this beautiful breakfast that Joshua made and fill him in,” Delia says, her voice rising with excitement. I’m in so much fucking trouble. “Come to think of it, he would probably love to listen to the scanner and learn all the gossip so he can protect us a bit better. Joshua is all about the protecting, and of course, if you happen to give him some advice, he could probably use that too,” she adds on conspiratorially.
Oh, she’s going to pay for this. So much.
“That’s not really necessary,” I say, not wanting to offend the two older women. “I have a lot of work to do.”
