Page 181 of Ice Mechanic

Mauve returns a few minutes later and continues, “The Phineas I thought I knew was a total fantasy. The real Phineas treated me horridly. Just wretchedly. When he cheated on me, that was the final straw and I broke up with him.”

“Good for you, Mauve.”

She checks my cup, sees that it’s empty and pours me another. “I was crying non-stop and hurting so bad in my heart. One day, Bobby found me like that. He wiped my tears and told me that someday I’d find a good man. Someone who treasured me and treated me right.”

“Did he ask you out right then?”

“Nope.” Mauve laughs. “Took eight months before he asked me. Later on, Bobby said he didn’t want to take advantage of my broken heart.”

I nod, impressed.

“When hedidask me, I was smart enough to say yes.” She grins. “I started dating Bobby and it was a total one-eighty from Phineas. I didn’t realize men like Bobby, alovelike Bobby’s, existed. I kicked myself every day for taking so long to give that man my heart. I’d found the one and I knew he was fixin’ to ask me to marry him any day now.”

“Mauve!” A table waves.

I groan.

“I’ll be right back, sweetheart.” She winks.

I wait for what feels like an eternity. Why does everyone in The Tipsy Tuna suddenly need Mauve’s attention?

When, at last, she rounds the bar again, I lunge forward. “Did he ask you to marry him?”

“Huh? Oh…” Mauve picks up a dirty glass and washes it in the sink. “No, he didn’t. Right at that point, Bobby joined the army.”

I sink slowly into my seat. “I didn’t know Bobby was a solider.”

“Mm-hm.” She bobs her head. “It hit me like a ton of bricks. One day, he was here. The next, he was gone and I didn’t know if he’d come back alive or in a body bag.”

Her comment resonates with me and I glance at the television screen.

Thirty minutes until the press conference.

“Funny enough, Bobby was more worried about me than about himself. So I put on a brave face and told him we’d get through it. We decided to keep dating through the war. I wrote him letters and I’d run to the mailbox every day to check if he’d written back. Most times, he had. But one day, the letters stopped coming.”

I place my hand on Mauve’s. “I’m sorry, Mauve. That must have been tough.”

She pastes on a brave smile, but I can see her bottom lip trembling. “I thought he was dead. My heart was absolutely crushed and I couldn’t even get out of bed.”

“Mauve!” A customer bellows from a table.

I swerve around. “Could you give us a?—”

Mauve yells over me. “Right there!” She slants me a scolding look and tuts, “April Elizabeth Brooks…”

Despite her scolding, I wait on pins and needles for Mauve to finish waiting on the table. At last, she comes back and I pounce on her.

“What happened next?”

“Why are you so excited? Bobby’s with me today. You know what happens.” She wipes a beer mug dry.

“Yes, buthow,” I stress.

She laughs, deepening the wrinkles around her eyes. “One day, I came home and saw a letter in my mailbox.”

I heave a giant sigh of relief. “Thank goodness.”

Mauve releases a belly-laugh. “Yes, I was very grateful.”

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