The second time today I’ve talked about that. “I know. I really like him,” I assured her. “A lot.”
“Good. He’s sensitive, you know.”
“I do.” I glance around. The making-out couple are talking now, quiet giggles. “So you know Alex through Luke?”
“They went to business school together.”
“Ah.”
She laughs. “That’s a loadedah.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, did you got to business school, too?”
“Good lord, no. I was an art major. And then I let the business people around me steer me in the wrong direction for a while—I worked in galleries—but I’m back in the muck now, and loving it.”
“Same for me, sort of.” When she raises her eyebrows, eager for more, I soften all the way. “I had middle-class parents very concerned I wouldn’t be able to afford a mortgage if I wrote full time, so I juggled writing a and a day job for far too long.”
Her eyes light up. “So you’re in the muck now, too?”
“I guess so.”
“That’s even better.” She taps her lower lip with her index finger. “Can I ask if I might have read your work?”
“Depends how much you’ve read.”
“So I can ask, but you won’t answer?”
I laugh. “Tell me a few authors you’ve read, and I’ll tell you if you’re in the right direction.”
“Just how secret is your writing?” She looks delighted at the prospect.
“It’s…those middle-class parents I mentioned. They don’t know what I write. I like it that way. I like that I don’t have to ever ask myself, what would Mom think? Because Mom is never going to know. I want to think I’m not susceptible to that dampening filter, but I would be. So…it’s pretty secret.”
“Then I won’t even guess,” she says resolutely. “But if I ever figure it out, your secret is safe with me.”
“Thank you.” I wish I could tell her that her secret is safe with me, too, but I don’t even know what it is other than her husband is clearly a jackass.
“I’m so glad for Sam that he’s found you again. He needs a bit of that.”
The subject of our conversation strolls in just in time to hear that. He’s two glasses of wine, and he hands one to me. The other he keeps firmly for himself as he gives his sister-in-law a reproachful look. “Hey, now.”
Grace waves him off. “I mean it with love.”
“And that love is felt right here.” He taps himself on the chest and mimes being wounded. “Your husband is picking a fight about hockey.”
She makes a face. “All right. I’ll go and rescue…who is he arguing with?”
“A forward for the Maple Leafs.”
I laugh, I can’t help it.
“Sorry,” I whisper when they both look at me.
Grace sighs. “No, it’s funny. I’ll see you later?”
“Yep.” I catch her hand and squeeze. “Thanks for the talk. It was nice getting to know each other a bit.”
“We’ll do it again.”