Page 50 of Filthy Little Midlife Fling

“Oh.” Danny stares at the van. “Why?”

“She didn’t do it on purpose,” I cut in.

“I made a mistake,” Audrey says, walking toward us. She smiles softly at Danny when he faces her. “I was supposed to get the van checked after I bought it, but I didn’t. The brakes failed.”

I like how she talks to Danny. She’s honest with him and speaks to him like he’s smart enough to understand. I like that she admitted her mistake without trying to explain it away.

“Why didn’t you get the van checked?”

I frown. “Danny, be polite.”

Danny ignores me.

Audrey lets out a sigh. “Well, that was a mistake. Sometimes I get really worried about doing a task perfectly, and it makes it hard for me to start that task at all. In this case, I wanted to learn more about cars so I didn’t get ripped off by another mechanic, and I procrastinated.”

“What’s procrastinated?”

“It means I put it off instead of dealing with it.”

“That wasn’t very smart.”

“Danny,” I warn.

Danny glances at me, then at Audrey. “Sorry.”

She comes to stand beside us and shakes her head. “It’s okay. You’re right.”

“Remy won’t rip you off. You should just get him to take care of your van.” He says it like Audrey is the biggest idiot who ever lived. I huff, half embarrassed, half amused.

“I think that’s the plan,” Audrey says, meeting my gaze, a question in her eyes.

“That’s the plan,” I confirm. There’s no way I’m letting this woman drive something I haven’t inspected. It’s bad enough she kept the van instead of getting a new one. For the next second or two, my brain tries to figure out how I could gift her a new work van without making her uncomfortable. Then Audrey smiles at me, and my thoughts disintegrate.

We start walking, and Audrey pulls a pamphlet out of her purse.

Glancing over, I grin. “You have the walking tour brochure?” Why does that not surprise me? Audrey seems like she’s prepared for everything. She probably had the pamphlet filed in a special folder arranged alphabetically by year.

She flicks it open and gives me a sideways glance. “How else would I know where to go?”

Laughing, I take her hand and tangle my fingers through hers. “You’d let me lead you.”

“Hmm,” she says, but there’s a grin playing over her lips. She slides the brochure back into her purse.

Danny scampers ahead, and the two of us stroll behind. The air smells of sweet floral blooms and a hint of the ocean. We pass under a Catalina cherry tree, and I wish it were a month earlier so Audrey could have seen it in full bloom. A few minutes later, we arrive at one of the houses on the walking tour.

The home is a Spanish-style residence with white arches and a terracotta-colored roof. The home belongs to a woman called Wilma, who’s currently watering a pot of geraniums. She turns when she sees us and waves.

“Good evening,” she calls out, setting her hose down to come greet us. She kisses my cheek and then does the same to Audrey. Danny is inspecting something in the grass—probably a bug.

“Your flannelbush is beautiful this year, Wilma,” I tell her, nodding to the sprawling ornamental tree in the center of her front yard. Its yellow flowers are vibrant, hanging off spindly branches.

The older woman smiles. “Not as nice as your magnolia. I was so sorry to hear what happened. The roads are full of maniacs!”

Audrey clears her throat. Her cheeks are red.

“No one got hurt,” I say, squeezing her hand. “It was an accident.”

Audrey asks Wilma about her garden, and the older lady is all too eager to give us a personal tour. I half-listen as Wilma talks, most of my attention on the curve of Audrey’s shoulders and the way she nods when she finds something interesting.

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