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“Maybe. Maybe not.” Carol shrugged. “She’s real polite. She might just be pretending to like you because she doesn’t want to hurt your feelings.”
Liam frowned. The kid was making him uneasy. “Has she said anything to make you think she doesn’t like me?”
She shrugged again. “Nope. But we don’t talk about you that much. She hasn’t had a chance.”
Another body blow. “Okay, well, I’ll work on it.”
Carol nodded, then her forehead furrowed. “Do you like her?”
Liam blinked. “Your mom?”
Carol gave him a dry look. “Yes, my mom.”
He considered all the different meanings of the word like, and what he might be committing himself to here. The hell with it. “Yeah. I like your mom a lot.”
Carol nodded absently. “Okay, then. I’ll see what I can do. I’ll be in touch.” She pushed herself to her feet again, brushing off her shorts. “See you.”
“Right.” He watched her head down the street toward her house, then turned back inside the tavern. With any luck, Stanton would show up and start screaming at him. That would at least be preferable to wondering whether Ruth Colbert liked him or not.
When had he magically been transported to middle school? Having Carol in his life had definitely weirded things up a bit.
…
Ruth hung up the phone, dropping it back in her purse and fighting down a wholly inappropriate grin. Peaches had been fired. She’d be joining the Salty Goat tomorrow morning. Ruth had promised to open up for her at seven so that she could get some muffins going for the morning coffee break and the bed and breakfasts.
They hadn’t had any fresh muffins available since Honoria had left. The smell of them baking alone ought to increase their morning crowd by at least half.
Of course, she was sorry Tim Stanton had been nasty to Peaches. She didn’t deserve that. If he wanted to rail at someone, he could come to the Salty Goat and rail at her. Ruth was more his size, anyway. The next meeting of the Antero Merchants Association should be lively, given that they were both members and Stanton had never been known for his restraint. Maybe Ruth would tell him what a jerk he was for yelling at a sweetheart like Peaches.
The front door slammed shut, and Ruth leaned out into the hall. “Carol?”
“I’m home.” She stepped into the kitchen as Ruth returned to making meatballs. “Is that for supper?”
“Some. Some I’m going to freeze.”
“Okay.” She leaned back against the kitchen counter, regarding the meatballs with a critical eye. “What do you want me to do?”
“You can make the salad and put the water on to boil for the spaghetti.”
Carol opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bag of lettuce. Ruth was teaching her to cook a little at a time, although boiling water didn’t count.
“Where were you?” she asked.
“Walking around. No place special.”
That sounded ominously vague, but Ruth let it go. “I’m going out on Thursday. Bunny’s going to stay with you.”
Carol raised her eyebrows. “Where are you going?”
“To dinner. With Liam Dempsey.” She mentally crossed her fingers, hoping that would be the end of the conversation.
Carol frowned but said nothing as she picked up a basket of cherry tomatoes. Maybe they could avoid the whole Liam Dempsey discussion until some other time.
“Do you like him?” Carol asked.
Or not.
“Yes, I do. Do you?”
“He’s okay. Why do you like him?”
“Why?” Ruth frowned. Why would she ask? “Are you concerned about him for some reason?”
Carol shook her head. “I’m just curious. I want to know why people like people.”
Great time to become philosophical. “He’s easy to talk to. He seems like a nice guy. Bec speaks highly of him.”
“Bec’s his sister.”
“True, but brothers and sisters don’t always get along.”
“So it’s just that he’s nice? That doesn’t seem like enough. I mean, there are a lot of nice people in town, and you don’t go to dinner with them.”
“They didn’t ask me,” Ruth said tartly. “Liam did.”
