My grandson looks at me like I’m nuts, considering I’m the one who got him hooked on that stupid show. As does my friend Karen Walton, who is currently perched on a stool next to the bar with me, on the far side of the deck, where I’m currently standing. And where I escaped to after Birdie made her stupid plus-one announcement that did not, in fact, fix everything.
“Whatever,” I mutter to both of them before smiling at Owen. “We can stop at the store before it closes on the way home and stock up on junk food.”
Owen gives me a kiss on the cheek, then heads off across the patio, where Shepherd is still standing with the rest of the group. Minus Wren and Emily, who still haven’t emerged from the bathroom. Which is really starting to concern me now.
“Enjoy how young he makes you feel now.”
Turning my head, I look at Karen in confusion. She’s been one of my closest friends since she moved to Summersweet Island in high school, when I hooked her up with her husband Ed during third period study hall.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I loved every second of being a grandma the first time.” She smiles wistfully. “I felt like such a young, cool grandma. It’s when more start coming along that you really start feeling your age. As soon as Eddie Junior and Beth had the twins, and I suddenly became a grandmother of three, I felt like a grandmother. It got more tiring watching them, and keeping up with them, and having patience with them. Plus, when you have more than one grandchild, you go from getting fun and useful holiday gifts to getting nothing but picture frames and sweatshirts with fake turtlenecks that say crap like Nana’s Garden and their names on it. More than one grandchild just makes you feel—”
“Don’t you dare say it,” I cut her off, taking a bigger gulp of my champagne. “You’re supposed to be distracting me over here before they start serving the salad course. Tell me something else.”
Anything else. As long as it doesn’t make me feel that dumb, three-letter word that starts with O and ends with D, with a big loser in the middle. Or makes me think about the man my friend is supposed to be distracting me from.
Karen thinks for a minute as the bartender refills her wine glass. “Remember Donny Richards from high school?”
“Sure.” I shrug, trying and failing not to look back over my shoulder where most of my family is gathered, only to find Dean looking right over here at me.
My head whips back to look at Karen, quickly drinking more of my champagne to try to drown the butterflies in my stomach.
“He graduated with me, so he was a senior when you were a freshman. He was the guy who used to dress up as a cow at all the home basketball games and moo at the other team from the student section,” she reminds me.
“Right, right, Donny Richards.” I nod. “He was really nice. I’m friends with him on social media. He married Sue Hobbs, and they moved to Montana. He always posts the funniest stuff.”
“Yeah, he died. Heart attack.”
“Jesus, Karen!” I shake my head at her.
“Sorry.” She shrugs, not at all sorry. “After our thirtieth high school reunion, it’s just all downhill from there, and we all start dropping like flies. I read the obituaries at this point just to see who to take off my Christmas card list.”
I sigh, shaking my head at her again. “You are just a bringer of joy this evening, aren’t you?”
“You know what brings me joy? Watching that tall, dangerous, and delicious plus-one of yours on the other side of the room keep undressing you with his eyes ever since you walked over here,” she muses, making me finish off the glass of champagne Palmer’s agent ordered for me before he wandered away and wave down the bartender for a refill.
“He does not,” I mutter, even though the back of my neck tingles, and I know damn well he still hasn’t taken his eyes off me. “And he’s not my plus-one.”
“Did anyone tell him that?” Karen snorts.
“I did. Repeatedly.” Which is why I’m now on the other side of the deck, because I got annoyed every time he’d just smirk at me when I told him he was absolutely not going to be my date to my daughter’s wedding. Or any of the other events leading up to that day.
“I swear to God if you don’t take him out for a test drive, I will stab you,” Karen warns me as I thank the lovely bartender who quickly refills my glass before I start chugging away. “This is the first time Ed and I have been out on a date since EJ’s wedding, and he’s already nodding off at our table. His idea of a good time is having me pick him up from Dockside Eddy’s and pouring me a beer while I wait for him to close. I need to live vicariously through you.”
Glancing back over my shoulder and avoiding the far corner of the deck, sure enough, Karen’s husband has his arms folded over his stomach and his head dropped forward, snoring away at their table, surrounded by people drinking, laughing, and chatting. Ed won’t be planting anything in Karen’s garden tonight, and that just makes me feel sad for her. And it reminds me that the next time he comes up for his nightly butterscotch milkshake while I’m closing the Dip and Twist, I’m going to have a chat with my dear friend about keeping the romance alive in his marriage. Or at least staying awake until the first course is served.
Thankfully, Wren and Emily finally emerge from the bathroom, and I don’t have to think about anything dangerous or delicious wandering through my own weeds. I quickly set my champagne glass down on the bar when I see it looks like Wren has been crying as she makes her way toward me, with Emily following quickly behind.
“Hon, what’s wrong?” I ask.
“It’s fine. Everything is fine. It’s just great.” Wren smiles at me as I step forward to give her a hug, because I know my daughter is lying.
She walks right by me, and I turn as she goes, watching her walk into Shepherd’s arms. He hurried across the deck, weaving in and out of people as soon as he saw her come out of the bathroom.
My heart hurts for just a second, even though this is what I always wanted for her… for both of my girls. But it still stings sometimes, knowing I’m no longer the one they run to first when they need someone to dry their tears or make something better. They have strong, sweet, wonderful men in their lives who absolutely adore them and would walk through fire for them. I’m so thankful every day for that.
But taking a backseat in their lives is the hardest thing I’ve ever done in mine. I was a single mom, and it’s always been just the three of us against the world. The fact that both girls were in their thirties before they found their men just meant I had more time to be needed by them. It’s taking a little longer for me to adjust than I’d like.