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“They did.”
“I saw your grandfather passed away last year. I’m sorry. He was a great man.”
The mention of his passing lodged a lump in my throat. “Thank you.” My voice was hoarser than I cared for it to be.
“Afternoon, dolls.” Silvia placed our wine on the table, and I was grateful for the interruption. “What can I get you?”
“An order of wings and brisket nachos.”
“You planning on having more people come?”
“Oh honey, he knows what he’s doing. One bite of those nachos and next thing you know, the plate will be gone, and I’m speaking from experience.”
“How’s Bill?” I asked. Her husband owned the only gas station in Vine Valley. I once asked her why she worked at Don’s and not at the gas station, and she said she had seen enough of him at home. Why the hell would she work with him, too? I had made the mistake of sipping my wine when she answered and nearly choked to death when the wine mixed with a laugh.
“He’s just dandy.”
“Is that sarcasm I detect?”
“Do you know he wants to buy a motorcycle? A motorcycle! The kids are out of the house for no less than a year, and suddenly he’s going through a midlife crisis.” She sighed. “He needs a motorcycle like he needs a hole in his head, though I assume he already has one, because why else would he get such a ridiculous idea?”
“Nothing wrong with a man and his toys,” I said, and the look both Silvia and Phoebe shot me told me it was absolutely the wrong thing to say.
“Nothing wrong,” Silvia huffed. “They’re dangerous.”
“Did you tell him this?” Phoebe chimed in. “Let him know how you feel.”
“Of course I did, and you know what the jackass said?” Her hand planted on her hip. “He told me with his life insurance policy he’s worth more to me dead than he is alive.”
I couldn’t help the laugh that slipped out. The man made some valid points.
Silvia swatted a menu at me. “Don’t you laugh.”
“Men,” Phoebe said, and Silvia flashed her a smile.
“Tell me about it. I’m going to go put your order in. Should be about ten minutes. Let me know if you need anything in the meantime.”
“Thanks, Silvia, and sorry for laughing.”
“No, you’re not, but I still love you, anyway.” She headed to the kitchen, and I turned my attention to Phoebe.
“She’s sweet,” Phoebe said.
“She is. Her husband and two kids are her world. I’m happy the kids are in college now, so I don’t have to see a million pictures. Though I’m dreading the day she has grandkids. I don’t think they make phones with enough memory to hold all the pictures she’s going to take.”
“You’re so mean.”
My eyebrow lifted. “Until you sit through eleven hundred pictures of her family trip to the Grand Canyon, I don’t want any judgment.”
A smile cracked at the corner of her mouth, and I tried not to throw my arms up in victory. There was a time when she smiled constantly, and now it seemed like she reserved them for special occasions. I took another sip of my wine while she ran her finger along the rim of the wineglass.
I nodded to the glass. “Why aren’t you drinking?”
She shrugged. “I don’t drink much. Kind of the same thing with the unhealthy food.”
“Well, you’re in luck, because wine is full of health benefits. If consumed in moderation, of course.”
“Is that what you use in all your sales pitches?”
