It's Never too Late - Page 51

“Yeah.”

She grunted. And Mark took the praise equably.

“You don’t talk about school much.”

He shrugged. “Not much to tell.”

“You just don’t want me knowin’ I was right.”

“About what?”

“You. The scholarship. Or rather, you don’t want me knowin’ you know I was right. But I do. Whether you admit it or not.”

Mark cocked his head, half grinning at her, half perplexed. “Why is it so important to you that I admit fault?” he asked.

“Who says it’s important to me?”

“Isn’t it?”

“I’m right, aren’t I?”

“My point exactly.”

She nodded. He smiled and finished his coffee.

* * *

“PSSST.”

Addy was on her front porch, locking the door behind her Sunday morning, when she heard the familiar sound.

Why Nonnie didn’t just call out to her, she didn’t know. Hiding her smile, she turned toward her neighbors’ house.

“Pssst,” Nonnie said again.

“Nonnie? You need something?”

“So long as you’re not busy,” came the frail voice from just inside the door. And then, “Come in, girl,” she said with more gusto. Mark’s grandmother was sitting at the computer. “I got a favor,” she said.

“Of course.” Addy had stopped in twice the day before to say hello. The woman had been on the computer both times.

“Next time you’re at the store, could you pick me up a bottle?”

“I’d be happy to,” Addy said, watching over Nonnie’s shoulder as she won a game of backgammon against someone from Sweden. “A bottle of what?”

“Skunked him!” Nonnie exclaimed, putting her chair in reverse. “Be right back,” she said as Addy moved quickly to get out of her path.

Nonnie occasionally made rapid trips to the bathroom. But that morning, she whizzed right past it and on to her bedroom, returning a minute later with an empty bottle of whiskey on her lap.

Stopping her chair in front of Addy, she held up the bottle. “This. Can you get me some of this?”

“What about your medications?”

“Pooh them,” Nonnie said. “I don’t drink enough for it to make a difference. Just a nip at night sometimes when I can’t sleep. Been workin’ on that bottle for most of a year,” she said.

Still, Addy couldn’t agree to something that could put the woman’s life at risk. “I’m sure Mark would pick some up for you. They sell alcohol right in the grocery stores in Arizona.”

“I ain’t askin’ him.”

Tags: Tara Taylor Quinn Romance
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