“No, but I could say something about how the universe is trying to tell you that you have a maternal instinct a mile wide and this part-time solution appeals.”
“Not a maternal instinct as much as a familial one. Does that make sense?”
Ari shrugged. “Considering what happened to you and your family, of course it does.”
Gussie sighed, relieved that Ari understood her so well. “I do miss what I had as a kid and would love to re-create that. But not with someone else’s family.” A slow pounding started at the base of her neck, as it did whenever she thought about her brother and her family. She rubbed the spot as if she could massage the memories away.
“You okay?” Ari asked.
“Fine. Just hungry. Why don’t you grab your bag, and I’ll go put a lid on? If we don’t get over there soon, we’ll have to wait an hour for a table.”
But Ari didn’t move, still looking at Gussie with her All-Knowing Face.
“What?” Gussie asked.
“You don’t have to ‘put a lid on,’ Gus. Pull your hair back and most of the scar is covered. It’s a thousand degrees in Florida in July, even at night.”
So much for someone who understood her. How many times in one day did she have to have this conversation? “The wigs are me, Ari. They are my style, and I feel absolutely naked without them,” she said.
“And you know if you met someone and fell in love, you’d have to get naked. Completely naked. No-wig naked. All the time, every night.”
Gussie rolled her eyes. “Yes, I know. I was halfway there this afternoon.”
“You were?” Ari shot up. “If you’re holding out on me because of those Flipsticks…”
“The only person I’m holding out on is Thomas Jefferson DeMille.”
“And how’s he handling that?”
“Mmm.” Gussie thought about that. “He’s accepted it for now, but I don’t think the ‘we just met’ excuse will last long. He is one determined man.”
“So what’s stopping you?”
“Besides the fact that I hardly know him?” Gussie asked. “I mean, I met him yesterday, and he’ll be gone tomorrow.”
“He better not be. He’s doing our wedding this weekend.”
“Well, not exactly gone tomorrow, but soon. But I don’t want to get all worked up over a guy who doesn’t even own a home, let alone plans to settle down and live a normal life.” She could feel Ari’s gaze on her and avoided it by picking up a dishtowel and refolding it.
“Maybe you’ll be the one to change him.”
“Said every woman who’s ever met him. And then failed.”
“Well, if he’s that much of a player, you wouldn’t be attracted to him. Maybe there’s more than meets the eye, even if what meets the eye is pretty nice.”
“That’s what I keep thinking,” Gussie admitted. “There’s something very caring about him. He raised his sister and seems concerned about his niece. It’s like he’s a supernice guy wrapped in this cloak of ‘I vant to be alone’ that doesn’t even ring true.” She sighed and straightened the already straight dishtowel. “Did you get any of that when you met him today?”
“I didn’t get past the hair and the biceps.”
“I know, right?” From the other counter, her phone dinged with an incoming text. “But you would if you spent time with him because you have such a great sense of intuition with people.” She picked up her phone and looked at the screen. “Oh, speak of the devil.” Damn it, why did a text from him give her a thrill?
“Really?”
She clicked on the message and read. “He wants to know if I can meet him and Alex for dinner tonight.” She looked at Ari. “He wants me to talk her into going to France with him, and if that fails, I guess I can suggest she stay with me.”
“Oh, okay. You go, and I’ll scrounge for leftovers upstairs.”
“No, come with me.”
Ari held up a hand to say no, but Gussie grabbed it and squeezed. “You have to come,” she said as the rightness of the idea took hold. “You’re such a good judge of character, Ari. And it’s not a date since Alex will be there. It’ll be fun. I’ll text him back and tell him we’ll meet them at South of the Border in half an hour.”
She expected an instant yes, but Ari narrowed her eyes and held her hand out. “It’ll cost you.”
“Damn it.” She yanked open the pantry door and dug into the open box of Flipsticks. “Here.” She slapped about six into Ari’s palm, getting a jaw-dropped look of shock in return.
“I would have settled for something less fabulous. A Twizzler or Good & Plenty. The ’Sticks are for sex.” She put the Flipsticks back into Gussie’s hand. “If Tom can wait, so can I.”
Ari sounded pretty confident she wouldn’t have to wait long. Well, she was a damn good judge of character.
Chapter Nine
It had been remarkably easy to persuade Alex to go out to dinner. Tom had to say only four words: Gussie will be there. He didn’t mention that Gussie was bringing a friend. He didn’t want anything to change her mind, since he was certain that once he got them together again, Gussie could convince Alex that she should go to France. And if she didn’t, surely Alex wouldn’t mind Gussie’s generous backup plan.
He still wasn’t sure of that idea, on many levels. It felt like shirking his responsibilities, yet he believed the offer was genuine. Would Ruthie have approved? He had to ask himself that question every time he made a choice for Alex now. Although sometimes he wondered how much Ruthie had really cared since she’d so cavalierly left her daughter’s future in his hands.
But of course she’d cared. She’d merely thought she was invincible. Nobody was invincible. Nobody. Not strong, healthy women who seemed born to be mothers. Not…anyone.
Pushing the thought away out of habit, he repositioned himself on the bench where he and Alex sat outside under the bright red umbrellas of a Mexican restaurant the locals called the SOB.
The worst of the day’s heat had faded with sunset, but it was still warm under a lavender evening sky, still sticky and heavy. Or maybe that was the silence between him and the young girl who sat in front of him, splitting her gaze between the table, the street beyond, and the menu.
Anywhere but him.
He dug around for something to say, even though it would only get a monosyllabic answer.
“So, did you remember to water those plants?” he asked.
“I forgot.”
He bit back a sigh. “What did you do all day while I was gone?”
She shrugged, which he interpreted to mean “played video games.” Then she closed her mouth over her straw and sucked down soda.
Everything in him wanted to ask if she’d given any more thought to France, but he resisted the urge, leaving that in Gussie’s capable hands.
“Did you do more ‘work’ on…whatever it is you’re working on?” he asked.
She looked up without taking her mouth off the straw, her eyes suddenly so much like Ruthie’s it almost took his breath away. His sister hadn’t been quiet. In fact, she’d usually had a smartass answer for everything. But funny smartass, not miserable smartass.
Alex hadn’t inherited that trait, which would at least have been more tolerable than this silence.
“What is it you’re working on, anyway?” he probed. “Writing something?”
“It’s private.”
In other words, shut the hell up. He shifted his gaze to the street, scanning the palm-tree-lined avenue for the woman he’d spent most of the day thinking about when he hadn’t been trying to kiss her. “I wonder what color wig she’ll wear,” he mused.
That perked Alex up a bit. “How many does she have?”
“From what I can tell, a lot.”
“Does she always wear them?”
“I think so.”
“Why?”
He weighed the truth against the relief of actually engaging Alex in a conversation.
“She has a burn scar on the back of her he
ad, and her hair doesn’t grow there.”
“Really?” She sat up and abandoned the soda. “How big is it? Have you seen it? How’d she get it?”
“Yes, I’ve seen it. It’s not that big, and she’ll tell you the story if she wants to.” Maybe. Maybe it was private, and he’d just broken a confidence. He had no idea.
So maybe Gussie had been right when she’d said they needed to know each other better before sex. The idea made him a little uncomfortable, but then, everything about Gussie made him a little uncomfortable. And she also made him extremely comfortable, which was puzzling.
“Can I ask her tonight?” Alex asked.
“If it seems right.” Over Alex’s shoulder, he spotted two women walking and laughing, and it took him a few seconds to realize it was Gussie and her friend Ari. Was that her natural hair?
An unexpected zing shot through him at the sight of her long, golden-brown hair falling around her shoulders. He loved her hair like that, but then the two times he’d seen it, they’d been alone, close and, this afternoon, kissing. Maybe that’s what he loved—Gussie with her guard down.
But then she turned to her friend, both of them laughing, and he saw that the hair covered her whole head, so it must be another wig.
“There she is.” He gestured in the direction of the two women crossing the street.
Alex whipped around, nearly knocking the bench over to get a look. “Who’s that other lady?”
“Her friend and business partner.”
Her shoulders fell as she turned back. “This is a business thing? I thought it was like, you know, dinner.”
“It is dinner, Alex.” He caught Gussie’s eye as she approached their table, getting another unexpected zing when she smiled.
“But are we going to talk about taking pictures for that wedding?”
“I don’t know what we’re going to talk about.” He stood, placing his napkin on the table, as the two women reached them.
“Hi, Gussie.” Alex didn’t stand, but looked up. Gussie instantly reached down and gave her a hug, something he suddenly realized he hadn’t done since the day he’d arrived. Only because she never seemed like she wanted to hug.
“This is my friend Arielle Chandler,” Gussie said, putting her other arm around her friend. “Ari, this is Alex and, of course, you met Tom today.”
When they sat back down, Tom lightly took Gussie’s hand to get her next to him and across from Alex, but she easily slid onto the bench next to his niece, leaving the space next to him for Ari.
He didn’t like it, but let it go. After all, she was here to help him solve the France situation, no matter how much he wanted her close to him.
“So I heard we owe you dinner for all your hard labor,” Ari said easily as she sat. “I’m usually the one stuck finding volunteers to help with the gazebo-gathering, so thank you.”
“Not a problem,” he said. “We had…” He glanced at Gussie.
“Fun,” she supplied brightly, turning to Alex. “What did you do today?”
“I played some Mario and read a book and reorganized my closet.”
Why couldn’t she have told Tom that when he asked?
“Books, clothes, and video games!” Gussie exclaimed. “You might have had my dream day.”
“What about you?” Ari turned to grab his attention.
“Uh, no books, video games, or closets for me today.”
Ari laughed. “But did you have a good time at the warehouse?”
“Very good.” He stole a glance at the woman responsible for that good time, but she’d turned on the bench to talk with Alex. And Alex was talking back.
“Gussie is a blast, that’s one of the many things we love about her,” Ari said, dragging him back into conversation. “Along with her incredible loyalty, her whimsical humor, and her unparalleled ability to make even the plainest bridesmaid look stunning, but not quite prettier than the bride. That’s an art, you know.”
He smiled at the flattering résumé recital. Did Ari think she had to showcase Gussie’s qualities? Because he was getting familiar enough with every one.
“I know it is,” he said vaguely, leaning a little to hear what Alex and Gussie were talking about, but Ari fired another question at him. Something about the setup for the wedding. Then another about his personal approach to the bridal party. And one more, forcing him to give up on the other conversation altogether.
Maybe that was better, since Alex seemed more alive than she had since they’d arrived.
“Are you, uh, interviewing me?” he asked Ari. “’Cause I’m pretty sure I got the job already.”
She gave a low laugh. “You have the wedding job, yes. But”—she arched a dark brow and tipped her head toward Gussie—“what are your intentions toward my friend?”
Had he heard that right? Across the table, Alex let out a little shriek. “You would take me there?”
“Where?” Tom asked, letting the conversation with Ari drop.
“There’s a Forever 21 open on the mainland,” Alex said.
“What is that? Some kind of bar?”
Alex burst out laughing and looked at Gussie. “He’s clueless.”
“No, he’s a man who would have no reason to shop for teen-girl clothes. But I did a whole blog about that store, and I think they have great stuff.” She eyed Alex carefully, up and down. “You might be a tad young, but definitely too old for Justice.”
“I know, right? Where does that leave me?”
Leave her for what? Some kind of justice?
“You are so in-between stores,” Gussie said, true sympathy in her voice. “But I have some ideas we could check out at Forever 21, or even H&M.”
Alex’s face brightened. “Would you help me shop?”
Gussie glanced over at Tom, giving a sly wink. They ordered and made small talk, but when the food came, it was obvious Gussie and Alex were getting better and better acquainted without any help from him.
“She hasn’t talked that much to me in all the time I’ve been here,” he admitted quietly to Ari.
“Maybe you don’t know what to talk to her about,” the woman suggested.
Clothes? Video games? Trips to the mall? “That’s an understatement.”
“So can you answer my question now?” She lifted her margarita, looking innocently over the rim of the glass with large, dark eyes. “Intentions?”
He smiled. “So this is an interview.”
“More or less.” She sipped again. “No less about it, actually. Interview’s on.”
He took his own deep drink of cold beer. “She set you up to this, didn’t she?”
“No more than you set her up to convince your niece of something.”
Touché. “What do you want to know?”
“How bad she’s going to be hurt when you disappear.”
He frowned at her, trying to get his head around any possible way of answering that without actually answering it.
“If you’re utterly amazing and truly a keeper, then she’s going to be crushed,” Ari said. “If you’re an uncaring asshole, then she’ll be fine, but we try to steer each other clear of the latter. Which are you?”
His frown deepened. “Doesn’t matter. Either way, I’m the bad guy.”
“Pretty much.” Ari grinned. “But you’ll be happy to know I’m encouraging her to broaden her horizons and have fun with you.”
“Then I should—”
“No!” Alex’s exclamation brought the conversation to a stop, which he should have appreciated, but all the joy was gone from his niece’s eyes as she stared at him. “I’m not going to France,” she said through ground teeth.
“Alex,” Gussie said, putting her hand on Alex’s arm. “You just said you and your mom were going to go to Mexico for a vacation this summer. This would be a vacation, too.”
“That was my mom, and he’s…he’s…”
“Your uncle,” Gussie supplied. “Think of what an adventure it would be.”
“I do
n’t want an adventure,” she murmured, pushing her barely eaten burrito away and skewering Tom with an accusing look.
“You don’t know that if you haven’t had one,” Gussie said. “It would be like stepping into a video game for real. You would go on a private plane and stay in a beautiful apartment and taste French food, and think about the clothes in France. Magnifique!”
Slowly, Alex closed her eyes and let her shoulders fall. Tom knew better than to say a word. One wrongly spoken syllable, and Alex would shut down completely. Instead, they all waited in an awkward beat of silence.
“I think,” Gussie said, leaning a little closer to Alex, “that your Momma would have wanted you to have the experience.”
Moisture formed under Alex’s lashes, and Tom lost the battle to stay still and quiet. He reached his hand across the table and put it on Alex’s other arm so that he and Gussie were both connected to her.
“I’m pretty sure Gussie’s right,” he said, his voice sounding gruff as he worked not to push her too hard.
Finally, Alex opened her eyes and looked right at him. “You didn’t know my Momma at all. You hardly talked to her for years.”
There was a reason for that. He hardly talked to anyone who could ask probing, tough questions after his dark days in Greece. But this was no time to explain that. “Well, then, maybe if we take a trip together, you can tell me all about her.”
Something flickered in Alex’s eyes. “But what if…” She looked down, unable to finish.
“What if what?” Gussie urged gently.
“What if I miss something here?”
“You won’t miss anything here,” Tom said. “I promise you’ll be back before school starts.”
“But what if…” She swallowed, something painful ravaging her expression.
“What if what, honey?” Gussie asked.
“What if my dad comes to get me, and I’m not here?”
Oh, man. His whole chest squeezed until his heart hurt. Is that what she thought was going to happen? He opened his mouth, but Gussie shot him a look and sidled closer to Alex.
“Oh, Alex,” she said. “That’s perfectly understandable that you’d feel that way, but if he did…” She dug for something, and Tom knew exactly what she’d come up with: nothing.