Vera was on the sofa watching a rerun of a hot-dog-eating contest when I walked in. I handed her a coffee and she beamed.
“Oh, thank God. I broke into the stash of instant. But it was so gross.” She made a squealing noise when she spotted the donut box. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“We deserve it after last week.”
She opened the box and grabbed a donut, and I did the same. I sat in the recliner and we munched silently. The donut was surprisingly light, considering it was a hunk of fried dough covered in maple glaze and chunks of bacon. I reached for a second.
Vera broke the silence. “I’m sorry I’ve been moody lately.”
“You don’t have to ever apologize to me. But what’s going on? I mean, if you want to share.” Years ago, I would have never uttered that kind of caveat. Until now, I’d always assumed Vera wanted to share every detail of her life with me, as I did with her.
She tucked her legs under her and sipped her coffee. “Dad dying and us turning twenty-five have really done a number on me. I feel my mortality. It’s a quarter-life crisis.”
I still wasn’t convinced that was a thing, but I nodded anyway. Dad’s death from cancer had been something of a shock, since he’d been healthy as a horse prior to his diagnosis. I didn’t share her view on getting older, though. As far as I was concerned, life was far better now than in my teens, and it could only improve.
“Why do you think that is?” My goal for this conversation was to be as nonjudgmental as possible, while also drawing information out of Vera.
“Probably because Mom died in her early thirties. Don’t you ever wonder about that? By our age, she had two three-year-olds.”
I frowned. Our mother had died in a car crash when we were in middle school, and Dad became an instant single parent after that. “I try not to dwell on the past. It’s too painful.”
“I just wonder what I’m doing with my life. You’ve already had one successful career. I’ve had zip.”
“Vera, that’s not true. You graduated with honors for your undergraduate degree in library science. You had a great job at a nationally recognized library. Now you’re chasing your dream. Success with a new business doesn’t happen overnight. And I think you have a pretty rosy view of my career in Boston. It wasn’t that exciting or successful. I was the assistant to the assistant reptile director. Not exactly the stuff career dreams are made of.”
She lifted a shoulder. “And I know you joke about my biological clock, but I really do want to be married and a mom. There’s not enough time left. Or men.”
“Of course there is. Are. Whatever. I’m sure plenty of men are interested in you. Didn’t you say you had a prospect?” I mentally crossed my fingers in hopes she’d spill the tea.
Her lips lifted at the corners. “I don’t know if he’s marriage material. We’ll see.”
“You have to start somewhere.” I practically chomped on my tongue to prevent myself from asking the guy’s name.Please don’t let it be Tyler Carr...
She took a long gulp of her coffee. “He’s really ambitious.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“You probably won’t approve.”
I rolled my eyes. Considering I’d seen Tyler’s photo in Gene’s house just an hour ago, no, I probably wouldn’t be keen on their relationship. “Vera, my approval means nothing. If he’s good to you and treats you like a queen, then maybe I’ll like him. Who is it?”
“Tyler Carr.”
Gah. I nodded slowly, hoping my expression didn’t betray my true, dismal feelings. That photo of a grinning Tyler and Gene flashed again in my mind, and I wondered if I should show it to her. “I see. Well.”
“I was afraid to tell you.”
I had to think fast. If I flashed the photo now, she wouldn’t share anything further with me. I needed more information about his and Gene’s dealings, especially given that conversation I’d overheard. My heart pounded against my ribcage at the thought of Vera dating such a sketchy character.
“Vera, don’t be silly. Just because I hated—well, disliked—him in high school doesn’t mean anything now. People change. How’d you two get together, anyway?” I thought about how he’d called her a “Dalmatian” in high school because of the white vitiligo spots on her face and neck, and hated him with a renewed ferocity.
“I was at that new wine bar downtown one night with a couple of friends. He was there, and we started to talk. I told him all about our bookstore idea, and...” Her voice trailed off.
“And?”
She waved her hand dismissively. “And we got to talking about business and how he was running for office. This was a couple of months ago. One thing led to another, and we went out to dinner. Went all the way to Orlando. He’s been really busy with the campaign, but we’ve managed to hang out a few times. I’m not head over heels but he’s fun, and I’m seeing where it’s going.”
This didn’t sound like a solid relationship to me, but I kept quiet. “Does he know how much you’ve protested new developments around town?”
