I’m only a step behind Mick and Liam when they reach George and Ann’s table. Mick loudly clears his throat, and George looks up to find two huge guys hovering over him.
“Sir, I don’t give a fuck if you beat the Russians in ten different movies,” Mick says. “You’ll be getting your hands off that lady, or I’ll show you up close and personal why the fighters at Ring Your Bell Boxing Gym, the shittiest gym in all of Western North Carolina, have been awarded multiple medals.”
Mick flexes his tattooed arms in a show of strength that probably seems quite formidable to George Cronin at his relatively advanced age. While the man is reasonably fit, he has nothing on any of us.
George withdraws his hand but scowls at Ann. “You’re a cock tease.”
Mick looks like he’s torn between laughing and possibly flipping George over a table, which I sincerely hope he doesn’t do, since he wouldn’t be able to afford a lawyer who’s good enough to get him out of those charges.
“You’ll step away from hernow,” I say in a low, serious voice, trying to de-escalate the situation. I’ve never been good at this kind of thing, but I’m hyperaware of Nora and her friendspotentially watching us through the window. I can also see the genuine hurt on Ann’s face. She’d decided this man was not for her, but she was trying to let him down kindly, the way she does everything. He’s the one who made it ugly. I straighten my back, standing taller. “Or I’ll make sure every gossip website in the country knows exactly what happened here.”
He considers this for a moment. I’ll bet he’s more embarrassed about getting turned down by a noncelebrity than about acting like a man who lacks honor, but I don’t care about his motivations. I only want him to take off.
He surveys the wall of Mick, Liam, and me for a moment longer before swearing, picking up his napkin, balling it, and throwing it at Ann.
Rage blasts through me, but I’m not the only one.
“Oh, you’re going to regret that, you piece of shit,” Mick says, cracking his knuckles. He’s in his glory as he reaches for George, who practically skitters out of the coffee shop. Ann gets to her feet but doesn’t try to intervene, instead watching the scene with parted lips.
“You’re banned!” Bear calls after him. “You, the fellow from those spy movies. Don’t come back here.”
Several phones are raised, so presumably my threat will be carried out by other people. Thankfully, Mick never actually touched the guy, so I doubt he’ll face any blowback, especially if they got the napkin toss on video.
A hand lands on my arm, and I look over to see Nora is next to me. No doubt she entered the shop the conventional way, using the door. Knowing her, she thought nothing of edging past a potentially violent man to get here. And yet…her sudden appearance feels magical. She squeezes my arm, watching me with approving eyes. For a moment, everything fades away. Nothing exists except for Nora noticing me. Nora liking what she sees.
Seeming utterly defeated, Ann drops back into her seat and cradles her head in her hands. Alarm thrums through me.
“Miss Ann,” I say, sitting down beside her. “He wasn’t catfishing you.”
“You know what, son? I wish he had been.”
I laugh, until I notice the expression in her eyes. Her face isn’t used to sadness, which seems like a blessing—as with Dottie, her wrinkles are a road map of happiness.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “It’s just…he was awfully boring in person, wasn’t he? I suppose he didn’t send you great big blocks of text like that when you were corresponding online, otherwise you would have known better.”
She takes a thoughtful sip of her iced drink. “I was hoping he’d want to talk about the future, not the past. I’m done living in the past. I made that decision the moment I lost my husband. You know, I thought about turning off my hearing aid, but I was worried I wouldn’t hear Dot’s call.” She heaves a tired sigh. “Hewashandsome, though. No denying that.”
“Not handsome enough to tempt you.”
Nora snorts, and I realize it’s a quote from one of those old movies my mother likes to watch.
I start to turn toward her, but Ann grabs the sleeve of my T-shirt. “You’re wearing a T-shirt.” Her gaze shifts to Nora. “Oh Lord. You’re wearing a T-shirt aroundNora. That won’t do at all.”
Nora laughs, tipping her head back in a way that draws my gaze to the column of her throat.
“It’s okay, Ann. I’ve seen him in T-shirts.” Nora grins at me, then says something that shocks me. “And without them.”
“Nora.”
“Oh, she already knows everything. Don’t you, Ann?”
I realize she’s doing this to comfort Ann—to make her feel like she’s in on our secret. Which I suppose she is. But it doesn’tfeel like much of a secret anymore. My friends know. Her friends know. A large portion of the Wise Elders know. The only people who don’t know the whole truth are our parents and Pansy and José.
“I do indeed, honey. Now, let’s get next door to check on Dot. We don’t want her to come marching over here with one of her teapots to clock George over the head with it, now do we?”
“It would be amusing,” I admit. “He’s used plenty of household implements to injure people in those movies, but I suspect he’s never been felled by a teapot.”
Ann and Nora both grin at me, and I feel pretty good. I feel even better when Ann accepts my arm, and I help her up.
