Page 14 of Love in Tandem
“Well, no, but—”
“Then you have no idea what it feels like to know you, and you alone, are the only one who can see this final favor through.”
“Wowzer, what did this woman ask you to do?”
“She asked me to drive to a restaurant, Cake Lassies I think it’s called, and inform whoever’s waiting for her that she will be unable to make it, but to remain stalwart, for she is in a much better place, having already moved on to her final reward.”
“Goodness, she said all that?”
“Well, technically she said, ‘Cake cake cake, date, cake girl, organ.’ But I’ve read a lot of Agatha Christie novels and watched Mom and Dad play Password for years. I know what she meant. And I promised her I would take care of it.”
“Okay then, take care of it.”
“I can’t take care of it. My shift doesn’t end for another two hours. I need you to take care of it.”
“Me? What happened to ‘you and you alone are the only one who can see this favor through?’ I didn’t make any promises to hundred-year-old dead ladies. Besides, I’m on a heartbreak sabbatical this weekend. I’m not going anywhere. And even if I were, I’m certainly not going anywhere tonight. I’ve already put my pajamas on and started watching Beach Blanket Bingo.”
“Charlotte, you of all people should be jumping at an opportunity like this. What if she was supposed to be meeting her long-lost love? What if the man waiting for her is the Frankie Avalon to her Annette Funicello? C’mon, Char, this is the cheesy romantic drivel you live for.”
“If by cheesy romantic drivel, you mean wonderfully orchestrated masterpiece.” Charlotte let her head sink against the top of the couch and stared at the ceiling. She supposed she could put on a real shirt for the sake of true love. “Where is this restaurant again?”
“Downtown Davenport.”
“You want me to drive all the way to Iowa for this?”
“You act like it’s a million miles away and not just over the bridge.”
“And you act like it’s not a thirty-minute drive just to get to that bridge.” Ugh. This endeavor required more than a real shirt. She was going to have to put on real pants.
As if reading her mind, Sophia piped up. “Wear something nice. I’ve heard it’s a nice restaurant.”
“What’s that matter? I’m not staying.”
“Would you want someone delivering a message of doom to you in yoga pants and a hoodie? Put on a dress. It’ll soften the blow.”
This was getting ridiculous. “I hate driving into the Quad Cities. There’s always construction.”
“Yeah, but there’s also always Whitey’s Ice Cream to consider.”
Good point. For Whitey’s she might even be willing to put on Spanx if it came down to it. “Fine. What’s this lady’s name again? Mabel?”
“Melba. Melba Clark. Just look for an old man who looks like he’s waiting for the love of his life to arrive, and kindly relay the news that she’s dead. Then maybe pick up a cheesecake before you leave. I think it’s what Melba would have wanted.”
“Anything for Melba.”
Zach followed the map directions on his phone over the bridge until he reached Cake Lassies’ parking lot in downtown Davenport, Iowa. The Mississippi River snaked a dark path a few blocks down. Zach removed his tie and undid the top button of his shirt, eyeing the towering brick building that housed both a hotel and the world’s best cheesecake, apparently.
So far so good. Between Shannon’s boisterous family, a sick-to-her stomach maid of honor, and everyone’s focused attention on the happy couple, Zach had managed to remain far from the spotlight throughout the entire rehearsal.
Now to make it through dinner. Thankfully his secret weapon should be arriving any minute. Little Darla’s dimples could knock the socks off anyone. So long as he stayed glued to her side, he’d be fine.
She’d hopefully distract Ben and Shannon from attempting any more awkward apologies. Hopefully distract Mom from trying to set him up with the widowed arthritic organist if his surprise date didn’t work out. And most importantly, distract Zach from thinking about what a mess his life was going to be if he didn’t figure out what to do with it soon.
He supposed there was always Joe’s Tavern in Montana. His buddy Joe had left a message just the other day to give him a call. Serving drinks and breaking up bar fights wasn’t exactly on Zach’s bucket list of employment opportunities, but he was going to need some sort of income to tide him over now that the New Zealand gig was a bust.
“Zachary, you devil!” His mother’s voice drew his attention as soon as he stepped into the lobby’s marbled foyer. She bent over with a laugh, then raced toward him with further giggles.
Ah, see? Darla had that way about her. She could charm a teenager into handing over a smartphone. “I take it my date is here.”
