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“Yes, Jane, I did. In fact, he was holding a sign that said, ‘I need a ride, and I’m probably going to end up draining the moron who stops for me.’ But I figured, hey, what’s the harm?”
“All right, all right,” Jane grumbled. “I’m used to mothering now. I worry about Jamie constantly. Suddenly, I have a whole new respect for Mama.”
Behind her, Andrea gasped. Jane whirled on her, eyes narrowed. “If you ever tell anyone I said that, I will deny it, and then I will tell Dick all of the access codes for the adult channels on your cable box.”
“You wouldn’t.” Andrea hissed. “We’d never see him again.”
I turned to the redhead behind the bar. “Jolene, how do you put up with these two?”
Jolene yawned and turned a page in The Drama of the Half-Were Child. “I’m just here for the comic relief.”
—
Armed with enough books to keep me busy for weeks, I stopped by the Dairy Freeze on the way home to pick up the traditional Tuesday-night cheeseburgers. Joe Brooks, who’d been manning the grill for almost forty years, was sure to put extra grilled onions on Gigi’s, just as she liked it. That, combined with the crispy Tater Tots in the bottom of my grease-spotted brown takeout bag, guaranteed a happy evening at home.
“See you next Tuesday!” I called over my shoulder. Joe Brooks grinned and waved his spatula at me.
I hurried toward my car. I had about twenty minutes to get home before the cheese on the burgers lost ideal elasticity.
“Iris!”
I turned to see Paul jogging across the parking lot from his truck. Damn, there went my guaranteed evening of domestic felicity.
“Hi,” he said cheerfully, kissing my cheek.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, making the expected smacking noise, without any real enthusiasm. Paul hadn’t darkened the Dairy Freeze’s door since he’d gotten sick on a bad chili cheese dog in high school. He was about as likely to try his luck at snake handling as ordering one of Joe Brooks’s specials. Paul’s light hair reflected a corona of sea-green light from the streetlamps. His eyes twinkled as he nodded toward the greasy bag.
“You’re always here on Tuesday nights,” he said. “It’s cheeseburger night. How are you? Are you OK? I’ve been calling.”
“I know,” I said, wincing. “I’m sorry, I’ve just been so busy.”
“With your new guy?” he asked, and although his tone was bright and even, there was a tinge of hurt around his eyes, an unhappy turn to his mouth.
“Sort of,” I said, awkwardly opening the door and shoving the takeout bag onto the passenger seat.
“So, where did you and Cal meet?”
“Through work,” I said.
“Is it serious?” he asked.
“He’s usually pretty serious, yes,” I muttered.
“Wait, you met him through work? He was so pale, and his eyes … Aw, man, he’s a vampire?” He groaned. “How’s a guy supposed to compete with that?”
“It’s not a competition,” I reminded him gently. “You and I don’t work, Paul, remember? Not in the long term.”
The corner of his mouth tilted. “And I guess dating somebody who won’t die is pretty long-term, huh?”
“Paul—”
“Iris, I think we should give it another try. I miss you. No one makes me laugh like you. No one understands the way I think like you do. I think we can make it work long-term. We could get married, have kids, the whole deal. We could, Iris. We just have to try a little harder.”
“I want that. I want that just as much as you do, but we shouldn’t have to try so hard, Paul. It should just happen. We don’t have that … spark. That thing that makes you want to scream at someone one minute and kiss him the next. The thing that keeps life interesting.”
“OK, what if we got back together and we didn’t try at all?”
I laughed. “This feels like some sort of relationship trick.”
