Page 96 of Twisted Ties
“Oh I know that,” the old woman says, stroking the dog on her lap, who closes his eyes and starts to dribble. “Doesn’t mean she can’t have a bit of fun.”
“What fun?” Winnie says, walking into the room with a tray balanced in her arms. On top is a bright pink teapot, mismatched tea cups and a plate of cookies.
“The kind that involves more than one boyfriend.”
“Because Mom wouldn’t have a full-on fit if I dated more than one guy at a time.” Winnie places the tea tray on a small coffee table and pours steaming hot liquid into each of the cups.
“Oh, don’t you believe a word your mom says. She may preach all this ‘be good’ nonsense now, but she got up to all sorts when she was your age, I can tell you.”
“Do you actually want more than one boyfriend?” I ask Winnie, not willing to acknowledge to myself why I’m asking that question. Yep, refusing to go there at all.
“Me?” Winnie laughs. “It’s been hard enough finding myselfoneboyfriend.”
“Yes,” I say, not wanting to drop the topic of conversation just yet. “But if there was another man …”
“Do you have a boyfriend?” Winnie’s grandma asks with shrewd eyes.
“Rhi has a fated mate!” Winnie says, pouring milk into one of the cups and then passing it to her grandma.
The old woman sinks back into her chair, staring at me.
“Well I never.” She glances at Winnie. “The real thing?”
“The real thing.” She turns to me. “Do you want milk in your tea, Rhi?”
I shake my head and she hands me my cup. I sip at the hot liquid, certain my cheeks are hotter still.
“And who is the lucky mate?” Winnie’s grandma asks.
“The Enforcer,” Winnie squeals, obviously delighted to offer this juicy piece of information to her grandma. She picks up her own cup and settles back down on the couch next to me. “He’s insanely hot. And dark and brooding and mysterious.”
“And an asshole,” I remind her, frowning into my tea.
“Oh dear,” the older woman says, “some bumps on the road to happiness, huh? Well, the Enforcer and an unregistered. It’s only to be expected.”
Winnie leans forward, scowling at her grandma. “How do you know Rhi was unregistered? I haven’t told Mom. Can you imagine? She’d be demanding I switch rooms faster than you can say ‘bad influence’.” I choke on my tea. “No offense, Rhi.”
“None taken.”
“Petunia told me.”
“Petunia?” I ask.
“My middle sister. I knew I shouldn’t have told that little snitch. Does Mom know?”
“Certainly not. Anyway, I was just telling Rhi here that I think she’s a good influence on you.” Winnie and I turn to look at each other. The old woman laughs. “I’m assuming this isn’t the first time you’ve broken the rules then.”
“Last time it was Pip’s fault,” I say. Pip looks up from where he’s glaring at the cats.
“It wasn’t Pip’s fault. Someone stole him,” Winnie explains to her grandma.
The old woman smiles fondly at her granddaughter, making my ribs ache. “It sounds like you’ve been having fun. A boyfriend, kidnappings, cutting class. And experimenting with that death trap of a car.”
Winnie obviously decides she’d better change the subject. “I brought you something, Nonny.” She reaches into her bag and pulls out the three jars she’d taken from my aunt’s house – jars that somehow miraculously survived our car crash. The old woman takes them from her hands and examines the contents of each, unscrewing the lid of one and sniffing inside. “Trixie leaves. This is hideously expensive. Where on earth did you get the money for this, Winnifred? You’re not robbing banks along with everything else, are you?”
“No, we picked it up from Rhi’s aunt’s house.”
“She used to grow it,” I say proudly, remembering Winnie said it was impossible to grow.
