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“Please, call me Shirley. And I hope you brought your appetite.”
And just like that, I stepped into a home full of warmth and love and acceptance. A stark contrast to my own. And I’d never felt more welcome in my life.
I was miserable.
It felt like I had a rock sitting in my stomach. The weight of all the food Shirley had served me was going to take days to digest. But it was all worth it, because despite the rocky start, things had taken a major turn for the better over dinner. If it took eating my body weight in roasted chicken and au gratin potatoes to win their approval, I gladly would have done it a hundred times over. Just as long as Presley didn’t mind me getting a gut, developing high cholesterol, and nursing me back to health after my first heart attack.
Shirley was easy to win over, and it took no time at all to see just who my Bubbles got her kind heart from. Alan wasn’t quite as easy, but we eventually found common ground with football. Most specifically, college football. He was an OU fan, so we spentmost of the time talking about my coaching strategy going into this season. When he asked if I thought I could get my boys to the playoffs this year, I’d answered with a resounding “Hell yes.” Apparently that was the right way to go instead of being humble about it. After all, there was no room for humility in football. It was all about visualizing the outcome you wanted and busting your ass to get there.
Alan took a sip of his water as he studied me across the table. It took everything I had not to fidget under his scrutinizing gaze, but the longer he stared in silence, the more I started to feel like a specimen under a microscope. “Hmm. Maybe you aren’t so bad after all.”
As far as I was concerned, that was stellar praise in Alan Fields’s book, and apparently Presley felt the same way. She placed her hand on my thigh beneath the table, and when I turned to look at her, she was smiling at me with so much love and affection I forgot all about the food pains in my stomach. There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do for this woman, any lengths I wouldn’t go to in order to ensure her happiness. Including eating twenty pounds of food in one sitting.
She was worth everything.
She was even worth stuffing down a slice of the chocolate silk pie Shirley had just carried out from the kitchen after announcing it was time for dessert.
It was official, I was going to be spending my night hugging the toilet in misery as my body tried to expel everything I’d forced into it.
Presley’s hand on my thigh clenched, drawing my focus back to her so she could lean in and gently brush her lips against mine.
Worth it.
Her mother was in the middle of plating slices for everyone when Presley’s phone rang from her back pocket. She pulled it out and looked at the screen with a frown.
“Hey. Everything good?”
She gave me a distracted grin as she pushed her chair back and stood up. “Yeah. Sorry. It’s Diane. Probably something with the bar. I’ll be right back.”
Shirley shuffled off into the kitchen for something, leaving me alone with Alan.
“Psst.” He waved me closer when I looked over at him, leaning in deep and lowering his voice to a whisper. “There’s a potted ficus behind you. You can stash the pie in there. I’ll get it after you guys leave and toss it out so Shirl’ll be none the wiser.”
What the... Was this some sort of test? I had to assume the wrong response here was make or break.
“Oh, no. That’s okay.” I offered him a smile as warning sirens began blaring in my head. “I’m actually still a little hung?—”
“This isn’t some kind of test or demented game, son,” he insisted, his expression nothing but genuine. “I’ve been where you are. I know your pain. I love the woman with all my heart, but if I ate everything she put in front of me I’d have had at least three massive coronaries by now.” He looked over his shoulder to make sure the coast was still clear. “We have to stick together. I’ll do you a favor this time and you return it come the holidays. You think she’s bad now, just you wait.”
I wasn’t sure I’d survive it. To get through a Thanksgiving at the Fields house, I may actually need to fast for a week.
It was a no brainer. I sat back and extended my arm across to table “Deal.” He gave my hand a shake then played lookout as I dumped the pie in the plant he’d indicated.
Shirley returned to the dining room and took her seat as Alan shot me a wink behind her back. We were partners in crime now, and as ridiculous as the whole thing was, I actually felt like thiswas a sort of bonding moment between us. We had a shared secret.
I was starting to think that this evening couldn’t have possibly gone any better when Presley walked back into the dining room. I came to my feet the moment I saw how pale she was. The usual flush on the apples of her cheeks was long gone. Her eyes were wide and distant, filled with worry.
“Bubbles, what’s wrong?”
“It’s—” She shook her head and did her best to clear her expression, but it didn’t work. “It’s nothing,” she tried to reassure me, but I knew better. That call had rattled her in a serious way.
“Puddin’ pop, you’re white as a sheet,” he father pointed out. “Clearly it’s not nothing.”
She cleared her throat and let me lead her back to her seat. I sat down in my own, pulling it closer to hers.
She raked her fingers through her hair, something she only did when she was agitated. “Um, well... Diane wanted to give me a heads up that—that there’s been an offer to buy the bar.”
“What?” Shirley shook her head, confusion on her face clear as day. “But, how is that possible? She hasn’t announced to anyone but you that she’s planning on retiring.” My stomach dropped like a bolder being tossed into the ocean. “Who could have possibly known?”
