Page 134 of Too Old for This
“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Archie says.
“Yes. Not only on the outside.”
“That’s what I meant.”
I hope so. After all she has gone through to get to this day, the last thing Morgan needs is a husband whose midlife crisis ends when she hits thirty.
“Are you happy now?” I ask.
Archie turns, his forehead crinkled. “Now?”
“You obviously weren’t happy with Stephanie. So are you happy now?”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Sure it is.”
“I was happy with Stephanie for a long time,” he says. “Then I wasn’t. Now I’m happy with Morgan.”
I nod.
“Okay?” he says.
“Okay.”
He takes my hand and leads me to the dance floor at the far end of the yard. The last time I danced with my son was at his first wedding. It was much different. Fewer sparkles and more formal, maybe a bit stuffy. Stephanie wanted it that way. The ceremony was in a church. Afterward, we had a sit-down dinner in a large reception hall. Speeches were made. So were promises.
At this wedding, the focus is on fun. Perhaps because that baby will be along in no time.
Archie moves slow on the dance floor, clearly favoring my hip. I hate that he does this. I hate that heneedsto do it. What I won’t admit out loud is that I’m grateful. The ibuprofen doesn’t work as well as it used to. I need to see about that hip surgery. Again.
Morgan waves to me from across the floor. Her smile is infectious, as it should be, and I wave back.
That’s when I see him.
He is standing behind her, getting up from one of the tables. I walk right over and smile.
“You look smashing,” I say.
Detective Tula blushes. “Why, thank you, Lottie. You look stunning today. More beautiful than the bride.”
“Stop.”
He offers me his arm. I take it, and we walk across the lawn, over to a quiet spot. Tula and I have become friendsover the past couple of weeks. Norma was really the one who brought us together. We had both dealt with her, and we’d watched her spiraling out of control, but neither of us saw her killing spree coming.
I suppose you could say we bonded in our shared guilt. Tula and I talked about how we should’ve known this might happen. Him, especially. As a cop, he was disappointed he didn’t see how close she was to having a psychotic break.
I can’t imagine how disappointed he would feel if he knew who I really was. He still doesn’t know, and there’s no reason for him to find out. That secret was buried with Plum and Norma and Burke.
“How are you doing?” I say.
“Not bad at all. You?”
I glance around at this beautiful wedding, on this beautiful day, and nod. “Couldn’t be better.”
CHAPTER 73
My house is finally empty.
