Page 100 of Betting on the Bad Boy
Looked like Dante had gotten tired of waiting for me to shift into relationship gear and found someone new. Sure as hell didn’t take him very long. Well, that would make things easier in the long run. He was probably doing me a favor.
Then why did my heart feel like it was caught in a vise? And why was I finding it hard to breathe? I took in a few jagged breaths and turned the key in the ignition. What a shit day.
Dante
I walkedthrough the senior center in a daze. Gnarled hands reached out to clap my back or grab my arm as I passed. Everyone wanted to offer their condolences and tell me what a wonderful person my grandmother had been. Her voice ran through my head.They sure went all out, didn’t they, my boy? Real silverware for the luncheon and the minister even wore those purple vestments I like so much.
I almost smiled. Pushing through the doors into the kitchen, I noted Meemaw’s nemesis, Mrs. Blake, standing in front of the oven, hot mitts in hand.I bet that’s her signature shepherd’s pie. Do you know she uses instant potatoes on top? Instant potatoes! At my luncheon?I ran my hands through my hair. If this kept up, I’d have to go get myself checked out at the psych ward.
Mrs. Blake turned and smiled. “Dante. Your grandmother sure will be missed around here.”
“That’s what I hear, Mrs. Blake. Thanks for coordinating the luncheon.”
“It was a lovely service.”
“Yes, it was.”
“Of course, Dolores probably would have had something to say about the music. That organ player can’t keep up. They don’t even let her play at mass anymore. I don’t know how she’s allowed to play...”
Mrs. Blake continued to complain about the organist while I waited for a break in the conversation so I could escape. “I see someone I need to talk to over there. Thanks again, Mrs. Blake.”
“Mmm hmm.” She turned to grab an industrial-size box of instant mashed potatoes and I almost laughed out loud. Maybe Meemaw really was talking to me still.
I made my way back to the dining room where Cheryl stood, orchestrating the buffet. A rainbow of Jell-O salads clustered at one end of the table, and the men hovered around the lemon bars and cookies, waiting for the first person to be brave enough to take one.
“How are you holding up?” Cheryl asked, placing her hand on my arm.
“I’m okay. Thanks for helping out today.”
“It’s my pleasure. Your grandmother was well-loved, Dante. They’re really going to miss her around here.”
They’ll miss me all right, like a hole in the head.I blinked hard. “Yeah, they’ll miss her. I think I’m going to head back to her place. I’ve got to get back to the office tomorrow and want to get a head start on packing stuff up.”
“Do you want any help?” Cheryl’s hand rubbed my arm.
“No, that’s okay. I think it’s something I need to do by myself.” I appreciated Cheryl’s help over the past couple of days, but I still wasn’t interested in anything beyond friendship with her.
There was only one person I wanted to see right now—Faith. But I hadn’t wanted to call her. I didn’t know if she’d be willing to drop everything and come running if she knew about Meemaw. I kind of thought she would, but I didn’t want to knowfor sure. What if this was the kind of thing that crossed the line for her into a relationship? I was afraid to ask her to come because I was afraid she’d say no.
“I can stop by later if you want company.” Cheryl seemed hesitant to let me go.
“I’ll be okay.” I clasped her hand in mine, removing it from my arm. “I really appreciate all you’ve done. I’ll see you around.” She let her hand drop to her side as the corners of her mouth tugged down into a frown.
I wheeled around and made my way through Meemaw’s friends. As I exited through the doors of the senior center out into the parking lot, I took in a deep breath of the crisp, cold air. Alone. Finally.
I’d been holding it together over the past several days as people stopped by to share a memory, tell a story about how Meemaw had helped them over the years, or drop off a casserole. I’d unloaded twelve pans of food just now at the senior center and had three more dishes back at Meemaw’s place.
Her friends meant well. I’d be willing to bet half of them had a freezer stocked full of casseroles, just waiting for the next person to drop dead.
Meemaw always used to say that when you got to be her age, every day was a gift. She’d lost so many friends over the years. She said she had to keep making new ones as fast as the old ones were dying.
I rubbed my hand across my eyes as I climbed up into the old Ford. As I turned the key in the ignition, it lumbered to life. I pulled out onto the highway and headed toward home, where a house full of memories and the treasures of an eighty-two-year-old woman waited for me to pack them away.
CHAPTER 49
Faith
I checkedmy watch for the tenth time in the past five minutes. Murph usually stopped in our office around this time of day. I’d been trying to figure out how to handle the atomic bomb he’d dropped on Friday night at the poetry slam. He had to be the one leaving the pages for me. No one else would have had the opportunity to get near my laptop and copy the file.
