Page 45 of Stick Break
“I noticed you have company?”
“Ah, yeah.”
“You know, this is a nice respectable community. My great granddaughter is coming to stay with me for the week. I don’t like for her to be exposed to…well, let’s just say I like to keep her morals and values in tack. No need to expose her to things, too early.”
I gulp. “Things?” What does she think we’re doing over there. Wait, no I don’t want to know.
“No loud parties, no loud noises. No outside of marriage…sexcapades.”
Sexcapades?
What is happening in my life?
“No one sullying up this reputable seaside town.”
“Oh, yeah. Of course. My fiancée and I are pretty quiet.”
A huge smile light her face, and the lines around her eyes relax. “Your fiancé, how delightful.”
“Yeah, so no worries. The most noise you’ll hear is her playing guitar.”
“Guitar, you say.” She nods, seemingly please by that too. “My great granddaughter has been asking for lessons.”
“You don’t say.” I inch back. “I should get going. It’s going to be a nice beach day.”
She nods, but follows me to the cash. I pay for my stuff and hurry outside. As an afterthought I stop into one of the tourist shops and grab a few things. Once done I head down the path home, but when I glance back, I find Mrs. Callahan walking behind me. Bags tucked under my arm, I hurry my steps, being careful not to hurt my groin in my great escape from a little old lady. I casually glance over my shoulder again, and Mrs. Callahan is right there.
How is she so damn fast. I can’t seem to outwalk her. Jesus, we should get her on the team.
When the cottage is in sight, I veer off the path, and cut across the road. When I spot Charley sitting outside, strumming her guitar, and realize Mrs. Callahan is following me home, I hurry to her.
“Hey,” I say and when she glances up at me, I press a soft kiss to her cheek. When Mrs. Callahan clears her throat, I put my mouth near Charley’s ear and whisper, “Pretend we’re engaged, okay.”
12
Charley
What the ever loving…
I blink up at Rip, who suddenly looks like he swallowed a bug and isn’t sure if he’s going to hurl or swallow it. Before I can ask what that was all about, he shifts, trying to block my view, but that’s when I see her. A woman in her seventies, marching toward us at record speed. Her eyes are locking on mine, and I search Rip’s face for help.
If a look could say, please play along, that’s what Rip is giving me.
“You must be the fiancée,” the woman says, her eyes narrowing, a deep assessment.
I set my guitar down and stand so fast my chair nearly falls backward. “Ah, yes.” I stand. “And you must be…” I let my sentence hang like an unfinished song lyric.
“This is Mrs. Callahan,” Rip pipes in, his voice about three octaves higher than usual. “She’s in the cottage next to us. I told you about her. Remember?”
He told me about her quickly and vaguely, but I nod like we discuss Mrs. Callahan over breakfast every day.
He looks almost relieved at my enthusiasm. “She knows Paisley and Gunther well. They told her I’d be staying at the cottage this month. They must have forgotten to tell her you’d be stopping by for the week.”
Okay that was a whole lot of information in one breath. I run my fingers through my hair, and work to play it cool. “Oh, I’m sorry they didn’t let you know I’d be here. Paisley and I go way back,” I explain.
Fine lines around blue eyes crinkle as she steps closer, like she’s running facial recognition software on my cheekbones. “You look familiar.”
Rip coughs. “Oh, that’s probably because she’s been here with Paisley before. Nothing scandalous.” His laugh is forced, and my gaze flies to his.
