Page 19 of Hello Handsome
I smiled, picking up my glass and holding it out. “Cheers.”
“Cheers.” She clinked her glass to mine. Once she took a sip, she said, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you more… when our girls were in school.” Her gaze flicked down toward her hands, and a heavy feeling settled over my shoulders.
“Why are you apologizing?” I asked.
She looked back at me, head tilted. “We all knew you were a single mom. And it was hard being a momwitha husband.”
I took a drink of wine, thinking back to that time. It was hard. I cried a lot. But I couldn’t remember most of that. “You know what I think of when I look back on that time?”
“What?” she asked, adjusting the thin throw blanket on her lap.
I took a deep breath. “I think of how Bella and Enzo always wanted me to lie with them before bed. And since there was only one of me, I’d scooch their beds together so I could lie in one bed and hold the other’s hand. We traded off every night so they’d get time with their momma.” My eyes stung at the memory. “I wish I would have savored it more, you know? It went bysofast.”
A gentle smile lifted Etta’s full lips. “You’re a better mom than me. I shut the door and turned the lights out at the end of the night.” She chuckled. “Those little heathens always had excuses for wanting to stay up later.”
“True,” I said, remembering all their extra trips to the bathroom sink for water or to the fridge because they werestarving“to death.”I drained the rest of my glass of wine. “I wouldn’t change a thing,” I said. Not about how I raised my babies. Not about tonight.
She reached across the couch, squeezing my hand. “If you ever need anything, just ask. I can’t offer an air-conditioned room, but I got some good almost-expired stuff at the store.”
That drew an easy laugh from my lips. “I’ll be calling you, for sure.”
“And if you ever need to talk about a certain man who helped you with your groceries last week…” She winked.
My cheeks heated, realizing someone had noticed. “I’ll let you know as soon as I have something to tell.”
Hopefully that would be on Saturday night.
12
GRAY
I hadn’t gotten dressedfor a date since Maya passed. But I had gone to a few weddings and funerals over the years, so dressing for them couldn’t be all that different… right?
I hoped so.
I finished buttoning up my light blue shirt with little navy-blue diamonds on it and tucked it in the waist of my newer dark-wash Wranglers. Then I buckled my belt into place and lifted my arms to even out the tuck.
My eyes stared back at me in the full-length mirror hanging over my bedroom door. I scrubbed my hand over my face, wondering how in the hell all these wrinkles snuck up on me, and then went to the bathroom in search of cologne.
My granddaughter Maya got me a bottle for my last birthday, so I dabbed a bit on my neck and wrists.
There was no more stalling. No more primping to be done or excuses to be late.
But there was still a worried look in my eyes returning my gaze in the medicine cabinet mirror.
This was my first date since Maya.
The realization had my chest tightening and breath coming shallow.
Shit. Fletcher had taught me how to recognize the signs of a heart attack.
Shortness of breath? Check. Chest pain? Check. Cold sweat? Yep. Lightheadedness? I needed to sit down.
I stumbled out of the bathroom and sat on the edge of the bed, grabbing my phone from the nightstand. After a couple of rings, my son picked up. “Hey, Dad, what’s up?”
“I think I’m having a heart attack,” I rushed out.
In the background of the phone, Fletcher called out something, and I heard the commotion of doors opening and closing. “Don’t try to drive. I’m on my way. What symptoms are you experiencing?”
