Page 16 of The Cadence
“What about you?” he asked.
“Me?”
“You didn’t mention leaving behind a guy in Tennessee.”
“No, no guys,” I said. “Remember my grandma? Remember how she spied from the kitchen rather than leaving us alone, and we were only doing math?”
“You drank without her knowing,” he reminded me. “You could have dated someone, too.”
“I didn’t, though. I might have snuck a few glasses of whiskey behind her back, but I wouldn’t have lied about a whole person. That also wouldn’t have been very nice for the guy, to think that I was hiding him and keeping him a secret.”
“She didn’t want you to meet somebody and settle down?” Will asked.
“She wanted me to like the man who played the organ at church. He was a widower who had three children, but he did have a steady job and he was very nice. She said that I didn’t have to love him, but I could be comfortable with him and his kids. I do like children,” I added. “His were a little rambunctious and they sometimes had to leave during Mass, but they weren’t bad seeds. Grandma thought they needed more eyes on them.”
“She was practical in her thinking.” He picked up the book that I’d brought but still hadn’t opened, the one with the pink cover. It featured a floral garland surrounding an illustration of a man and woman kissing. “Then she might not have enjoyed a story like this.”
“She didn’t care if I read romance books, but she wanted me to understand that there’s a difference between a novel and real life. Her real life was hard,” I told him. “There was no HEA.”
“What the hell is that?”
“It didn’t end Happily Ever After,” I explained. “She had a husband who was a big jerk, from what I heard. Just hints from the other ladies.”
“Does anything really go like this book?” He held it up again. “You know about my parents’ marriage. They hate each other.”
I didn’t know much, though, because he’d never told me the whole Bodine story. “You can understand where my grandma’s attitude came from,” I said, and he nodded. “The only fruit of her bad marriage was a son who ran around for years without contacting her and then, when he finally called, it was because he was in prison and someone needed to do something about his kid.”
“That was you.”
“That was me,” I agreed.
“It seems like it worked out for both of you. You got a home and a person who loved you, and you took care of her when she needed you.” He paused and glanced around our area. “The turbulence is better but I don’t think I should unbuckle my seat belt to get more napkins for you.”
“No, don’t. I have something,” I said again, and pulled my bag from beneath the seat in front. “I’ve been using the shirt that you gave me when I cry.” I took it out and wiped my eyes. “I don’t blow my nose on it and I wash it a lot.”
“Why do you use that?”
“Because it reminds me of someone being nice,” I answered. “You!”
“I gave you a free shirt. That wasn’t anything.”
“No, I mean the whole day. You came over and then you came back, and you brought me to your hotel and you ordered room service.”
“I got you drunk on whiskey until you vomited,” Will added.
“I filled the glasses after the first round. I wasn’t drunk, either, just kind of sick.” The airplane trembled. “Maybe now’s not the time to think about that.”
He was still thinking about something else. “You really never had a boyfriend? Not during high school and not afterwards?”
“Why is that so weird? A lot of people don’t date. There are a million reasons besides having an overly protective grandmother,” I said. “For example, maybe I wasn’t the right type, so no one was interested. Or maybe I wasn’t interested in them.”
“Which is it?”
“A mix of both,” I answered. “They might not have wanted me, but I didn’t care. And I didn’t want to lie to my grandma.”
“You think that sometimes lying is ok, but not about that,” he said.
“Exactly. You know, I don’t mind flying when it’s nice and smooth—Holy Moses!” We thumped and then the whole plane continued to rattle.
