AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You should have fixed yourself up for that football player from the start,” Nita said. “Then he might have taken the two of you seriously.”
“He takes me seriously.”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. He might have fallen in love with you, too. The same way you have with him.”
“I’m crazy about him, but I’m not in love. There’s a big difference. I don’t fall in love.” Nita didn’t understand. This was about Blue leaving with her head high. She had to make sure Dean never looked back at her with even the faintest tinge of pity.
Blue hustled the old woman outside. Nita checked her lipstick in the visor as Blue backed out of the garage. “You should be ashamed of yourself for letting that football player drive you out of town. You belong right here in Garrison, not running all over the place.”
“I can’t make a living in Garrison.”
“I already told you what I’d pay you to stay. A lot more than you can make painting your stupid little pictures.”
“I like painting my stupid little pictures. What I don’t like is living in servitude.”
“I’m the one living in servitude,” Nita countered, “the way you boss me around. You’re so stubborn you don’t see that you’re turning your back on a golden opportunity. I won’t live forever, and you know I don’t have anybody else to leave my money to.”
“You’re one of the undead. You’ll outlive us all.”
“Make all the jokes you want, but I’m worth millions, and every one of them could be yours someday.”
“I don’t want your millions. If you had a shred of decency, you’d leave everything to the town. What I want is to get away from Garrison.” She braked at the stop sign before she turned out on Church Street. She was right on time. “Remember,” she said. “Be gracious.”
“I worked at Arthur Murray. I know how to be gracious.”
“On second thought, just move your lips and let me do the talking. It’s safer that way.”
Nita’s snort sounded almost like a laugh, and Blue realized how much she’d miss the old bat. With Nita, Blue could be her own cranky self.
Just like she was with Dean.
The balloon-festooned banner arching across Church Street read HAPPY 73RD BIRTHDAY MRS. G. Dean knew for a fact that Nita was seventy-six, and he had no doubt Blue was behind the deception.
About a hundred people had dutifully gathered in the park. More balloons waved in the breeze, along with red, white, and blue bunting left over from last week’s Fourth of July celebration. A ragtag group of teenagers in black T-shirts and matching eyeliner finished playing a punk rock version of “Happy Birthday.” Riley had told Dean they were Syl’s nephew’s garage band, the only musicians who would agree to play today.
Toward the front of the park, near a small rose garden, Nita had already begun cutting into a birthday cake the size of a putting green. Dean had missed the celebratory speeches, but judging from everyone’s expression, they hadn’t been memorable. More bunting draped long tables holding pitchers of punch and iced tea. He spotted April and Riley standing near the cake table, talking to a woman in a yellow dress. Some of the locals called out to him and he waved, but all the while he was looking for Blue.
Yesterday had been one of the worst and best days of his life. First his ugly encounter with Blue; then his painful, liberating conversation with Jack; and, finally, the dance marathon with April. He and April hadn’t talked much afterward, and there’d been no “fucking hug,” as Jack had put it, but they both understood things had changed. He didn’t know exactly what their new relationship would be, only that it was time for him to grow up and get acquainted with the woman his mother had become.
Once again, he scanned the park, but he still didn’t see Blue, and he wanted to. Somehow he had to make things right. Nita carried her plate to a chair reserved just for her while Syl and Penny Winters took over divvying up the cake for the crowd. Nita began shooting darts at the lead singer of the garage band, who was doing a demented Paul McCartney: “You say it’s your birthday.” Both Riley and the woman in the yellow dress had their backs to him. April gestured toward the band, and Riley broke away with her to get closer.
Syl spotted him as she dropped a square of cake on a paper plate. “Come on over, Dean. The frosting roses’ll go fast. Blue, drag him over here. I’ve got a piece with his name on it.”
He looked around, but he didn’t see Blue anywhere. Then the small woman in the yellow dress turned, and he got his first sack of the season. “Blue?”
For a moment, she looked as vulnerable as the child he’d accused her of being. Then her chin came up. “I know. I’m cute as hell. Do me a favor and let’s not talk about it.”
She was more than cute. April had turned Miss Muffet into a fashion plate. The dress fit her perfectly. It was exactly the right length and had the ideal drape for Blue’s petite frame. The bodice clung to her curves, and the trendy purple wedge sandals emphasized her trim ankles. He’d imagined her like this. That crazy rumpus of a haircut made the most of her delicate bone structure. Her makeup was flattering and ultrafeminine. He’d known it wouldn’t take much to make her look incredible. And she did. Beautiful, stylish, sexy. Pretty much indistinguishable from all the other beautiful, stylish, sexy women he knew. He hated her like this. He wanted his Blue back. When he finally got around to speaking, the wrong thing came out. “Why?”
“I got tired of everybody saying you’re the pretty one.”
He couldn’t even fake a smile. He wanted to stuff her back into her rat-hole clothes, fling those fragile little sandals into the trash. Blue was Blue, one of a kind. She didn’t need all this. But she’d think he’d gone crazy if he blurted that out, so he ran his thumb along her narrow shoulder strap. “April sure knows her stuff.”
“Funny. That’s what she said about you when she saw me. She thought you put me together.”
“You did this yourself?”
“I’m an artist, Boo. This is another canvas for me, and not a very interesting one. Now go suck up to Nita. So far, she’s avoided stabbing anyone, but the afternoon is young.”
