Page 73 of The Party Line

“Do you still keep up with them?”

“Not really.” I gave another shrug. I hesitated and bit into a chicken leg, chewed, swallowed, and then took a sip of wine. “I was kind of a loner. I had lots of acquaintances but not many close friends. And those girls all moved away. Facebook doesn’t keep people that close in touch.”

He took a long sip of his wine. “I liked it here when I came to visit Grandpa in the summers. Which reminds me, I wonder why we never met during those times.”

“You were a boy,” I whispered.

“So?” he asked.

“Neither Aunt Gracie nor Mama let me have playdates with boys. They were evil little critters,” I answered, a laugh escaping.

“Did they tell you that?” Connor’s tone was full of pure shock.

“No, but when I made a guy-type friend in kindergarten, they made all kinds of excuses why I couldn’t invite him to ride the bus home with me after school. I figured out a few years later why Mama didn’t want me to be friends with boys, but I never quite understood Aunt Gracie, since Jasper was her best friend.”

“Life is complicated,” Connor replied and then leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. “But tonight, I’m sure glad I’m a boy.”

“Me too.”

Gina Lou was sitting in the dark living room when I got home that evening. I’d already taken a couple of steps toward the kitchen when Iheard her whisper, “Well, how did it go? Did he take you somewhere fancy? Is he cooking breakfast?”

“What . . . Why . . .” I stammered.

“Look—I didn’t want to cause a problem if Connor was going to stay the night. I had turned off the lights and was going up to my room when I heard y’all drive up. I wasn’t spying on you, I promise.”

“I’ve got to take meds out to Jasper. Come on into the kitchen, and we’ll talk when I get back.”

She followed me and sat down at the table when I flipped on the lights. “So, you’re not going to fire me?”

“What are you thinking? Of course not!” I declared and handed her my phone. “Here, look at these pictures while I get things ready to take out to Jasper.”

She gasped. “Oh. My. Sweet. Lord! That is the most romantic thing I’ve ever seen.”

“That’s just the beginning. Go on through them since you like sunsets and sunrises so well.” I had this medicine thing down to an art: pills in the glass, inhaler tucked into the pocket of my sundress.

Jasper frowned at me and pointed at the clock when I stepped inside his house. “You almost broke curfew, young lady.”

“It is nine fifteen, and you don’t go to bed until nine thirty,” I reminded him.

“That’s right, but I’m old, and it takes me a while to get into my pajamas and brush my teeth,” he smarted off. “I suppose I have to eat something now, too. That will take even more time.”

“Quit your fussin’ and get busy, then,” I told him, refusing to let him take the shine off my evening.

“Get me a couple of cookies and half a glass of milk,” he ordered.

“Yes, sir, Captain Jasper.”

He narrowed his eyes until they were little more than slits. “Don’t you get sassy with me, Lila Grace.” His expression changed from anger to a smile. “I miss Gracie so much. She would argue with me just like you do.”

I got three cookies from the jar and filled a glass with milk. “Here you go—and I miss her, too, Jasper.”

“I know you do, baby girl,” he said with an extra-long sigh.

He hadn’t called me by that nickname since I was a little girl. When I started to kindergarten, I fussed at him for calling me a baby. Was he getting dementia and thinking that I was still a child? Maybe I should have the doctor check him for that on the next visit. He ate the cookies and swallowed the pills with the last of his milk.

“How was the big date? Did he take you somewhere fancy up in San Antonio?” he asked.

I pointed at the clock. “It’s ten minutes past your bedtime. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow at breakfast.”

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