Page 178 of Mangled Memory
It comforts me.
Shecomforts me.
The tears threaten to well. “It’s so much emotion, so little grounding, you know? Like helium balloons in a hurricane… I’m frazzled and tossed about and just want some solid ground.”
“Mrs. Barone?”
I turn at the mention of my too-formal married name to find a plump, older woman with the kindest face I’ve ever seen. She’s too young to be my grandmother. Probably too young to be anyone’s grandmother, but that’s her calling, I can tell.
“Dinner’s ready.”
I stand and follow Halley, who knows exactly what to do, thank God. When I get to the door, I look back at my chaise lounge that’s been swallowed by the night sky, to the crackling fire, to the peace I so desperately need, before turning and introducing myself.
“I’m Ayla. Nice to meet you.”
“I’m Corinne. It’s good to have you home.” She pats my shoulder in a motherly gesture. “I have everything served in the dining room. Please call if I can do something for you.”
“Thank you.”
Halley grabs my hand and leads the way, and I’m beyond relieved. How do you tell people you don’t know where the dining room is in your own home?
My eyes widen when I take in the table. China on gold chargers, water goblets, stemless wine glasses, real silver… and the spread.
“What’s the old saying, ‘Starve a cold; feed a fever?’ I don’t remember ‘gorge memory issues.’ I should’ve known.” Halley tips her head before tapping her hips. “No forgetfulness for me.”
“Shut up.” I slap her wrist as she sits but miss wildly and send a spoon sailing. I try to catch it, but it clatters to the floor.
“Have you seen my butt?” She reaches the spoon with her long arms and sets it aside.
“Yes. And I’m jealous of all two handfuls of it.”
“Squats and carbs. That’s the secret.”
“And genetics,” I mumble, stabbing a potato dumpling and dragging it through some herby sauce. “The carbs thing I have down.”
We chat through dinner. I decline when she extends the wine bottle over my glass to pour for me. “My head hurts enough, and I certainly don’t need my thinking any cloudier than it is.”
She gives herself a generous serving before lifting her glass. “To all your dreams coming true. And to remembering the ones that already have.”
I clink my water glass to hers. “Right back at you.”
“Now… about you being horny?”
The words exit her mouth just as Corinne clears her throat at the door. “Mrs. Barone?
I look to her as the flames lick up my face in embarrassment.
“May I clear some of these things from the table?”
“We’ve got it, Corinne. Thank you, though.”
She looks as though she swallowed a clump of salt, and Halley’s mouth drops open at the same time.
“Um,” I hedge. Shit. What did I do?
Halley chimes in, rescuing my unknown blunder. “Corinne, dinner was delicious. Thank you. I know it’s not typical, but would you mind if we helped tonight?”
Corinne visibly relaxes as her eyes dance back and forthbetween Halley and me. “Well, if you insist but just this once. But I draw the line at dishes.” Her warm maternal smile is back. “Coffee is brewed and dessert is ready. Where shall I serve it?”
