Page 52 of Old Habits

I pull my arm free. “Mrs. Clark, I’m flattered. Really. You’re very sweet for thinking of me but I’m not interested in meeting your granddaughter—”

“Here she is!”

A young woman appears on the porch in jeans and a Kansas State sweater. Petite with blonde hair held back in a sloppy ponytail. She furrows her brow and her eyes bounce between us in confusion.

“What’s up, Grandma?” she asks. “Who’s this?”

Mrs. Clark beams brightly. “Lily, this is William and he’s—”

“Way too polite to tell your granny’s geriatric ass to mind her own damn business.”

I twist around to find Jovie standing at the bottom of the porch steps. Her arms are crossed and she pops one hip out in that stance saved for moments of attitude and I hesitate with an extreme rush of nostalgia.

Mrs. Clark’s jaw drops. “Excuse me?”

I rush down to take Jovie’s arm. “So, we really have to get going. It’s nice to meet you, Lillian. Thanks again, Mrs. Clark.”

Jovie smirks. “Remind me, Lillian, are you the granddaughter she publicly shamed for dating a black guy or are you the one she tried to send to gay conversion therapy? Or is that the same one? I haven’t been around in a while…”

“Jovie,”I tug on her elbow, “come on.”

Lillian’s lips twitch with a hidden smile. “The black guy.”

Mrs. Clark snaps at her. “Get back inside, Lillian.” She fires a hateful stare at Jovie’s smiling eyes. “You should be ashamed of yourself, Jovie Ross!”

“I really missed these neighborly chats, Mrs. Clark,” Jovie teases as I lead her away as fast as I can. “We should go to church together on Sunday. You and me, babe. I’ll save you a seat in the front pew. Oh, wait. Never mind. I’ll be too busy getting drunk and having premarital sex with dudes I found on the internet!”

The door slams, causing the knocker to pop up twice before it finally settles down.

I stare at Jovie on the sidewalk. “Holy shit.”

The shock melts off my face just as fast as it arrived, quickly replaced with a wide smile. This is Jovie, after all. Calling out bullshit was always high on her list of talents and favorite past times. I’d forgotten how much I missed watching it in real time.

“What?” she asks, shrugging. “She was out of line. No means no. You should learn to say it more often or people will walk all over you. Also, that girl was far from your type. Woman has no business setting people up.”

“And just what is my type?” I ask.

“Brunettes with long legs, big tits, pretty eyes, and a blatant disregard for authority.”

I pause. “Damn, that’s accurate.”

She smiles. “I know a few if you’d like their numbers.”

“No, thanks.” I take her hand again. “I’m good.”

“Your loss, then.”

Her fingers entwine with mine and I feel the gentle tickle of her thumb as it caresses my hand. We walk together down the street, drawing closer to the town square with each quiet step. Others have come out to take advantage of the nice weather, including a band of high school kids with a frisbee and other couples walking hand-in-hand like us. We continue on to the other side of the square, far away from the flying disc to find someplace to sit and talk.

My phone rings in my pocket as we reach a park bench. I pull it out and wince. “It’s Sara…”

Jovie frowns. “Don’t answer it.”

I hesitate. “Sara never calls. She’s more of a texter.”

“So?”

“So… it might be an emergency.”

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