Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
“I’ve dated.”
“I don’t mean mattress dancing. I mean dating. Getting to know a woman. But more importantly, letting her get to know you.”
“I think you’re getting a little ahead of yourself…”
“I don’t think so. This is a big step after everything you’ve been through.”
“It’s really not a big deal.”
She pursed her lips. “Does she…know?”
It was my turn to frown now. “We’re not having this conversation.”
“Oh, Fox.” Mom worried her lip. “It’s something a woman who means anything to you needs to know.”
“Like I said…” I buried my face back in the menu. “Not having this discussion.”
“Okay. Fine. But will you at least tell me where you’re taking her?”
I sighed. “I don’t know, Ma. I figured the Laurel Lake Inn.”
The look on my mother’s face told me I’d given the wrong answer.
“What’s wrong with the Inn?” I asked. “The food’s good.”
“Nothing’s wrong with the Inn…to take your mother.”
“Let me get this straight. It’s good enough for you but not a date?”
“Well, yeah. It’s not romantic, Fox.”
I rolled my eyes. It was on the tip of my tongue to say romance wasn’t on my agenda, but finding out what was underneath the tight black yoga pants Josie wore all the time was. But I refrained and gave my mother an inch, because I knew she meant well. “Where would you suggest I take her?”
“Le Pavillion would be nice.”
My brows shot to my forehead. “Seriously? The French place? It’s more than a half hour away. And you have to wear a suit to that restaurant.”
“Don’t you think Josie will be dressed up? She’s from Manhattan, honey.”
I was sort of hoping for the yoga pants. Though… I’d gone out in New York City enough back in my hockey days. The ladies in the clubs were always pretty dressed up—slinky shit with no back and all. It was night and day from the way women looked when they went to the Inn, the nicest restaurant in this little town.
“Maybe I’ll see if I can get a table at the steakhouse over in Chatrun.”
Mom smiled. “That’s a little better.”
I nodded. Thankfully, Tricia came to take our orders, ending the conversation. She took out her little notepad and slipped the pencil from behind her ear.
“Hey, Fox. You want your usual?”
“I do. Thanks, Trish.”
She turned to Mom. “We have the Greek salad you like as one of the specials today.”
“Ooh. That sounds good.” She held out her menu. “Thanks, Trish.”
Mom and I caught up for a while. She told me about her knitting class, and I bitched about the delivery delays giving me a headache on one of the jobs I was trying to finish.
“I have a favor to ask, honey.”
My mother never asked for anything. “What do you need?”
“Well, it’s for my friend Greta. You remember her, right?”
I nodded. “Blue hair shaped like a helmet?”
Mom smiled. “Her hair is silver, not blue. But yes, that’s Greta, and she’s going to be losing that hair soon.”
“Cancer?”
“I’m afraid so. She started treatment a few weeks ago. She’s keeping it quiet.”
“How can I help?”
“Her first treatment left her weak. She got up too fast and fell, broke her ankle in two places.”
“Jesus. That sucks.”
“It does. I went over to visit her yesterday. She lives in that big apartment complex on the north side, the one on Barnyard Avenue. She’s on the first floor, but her unit is still up six steps. It’s a struggle for her to go up and down because of the cast. She asked the property manager to install a small ramp, but they told her it would take a few months. By then, her cast will be off.”
“Probably why they said it. They have to accommodate her under disability laws, but they can take their sweet-ass time to do it. You want me to make her a ramp?”
“If you have time. It would really help her out. I’ll pay for the supplies.”
“No problem. I got it. I’ll do it this weekend.”
“Thanks, sweetie.”
Talking about the Barnyard Avenue apartments reminded me of something. “Do you know Ray Langone? He lives in the same complex as Greta.”
Mom frowned. “I do. He’s sort of elusive, isn’t he?”
I smiled. My mother was too kind to use the word shady. “Yeah, he’s elusive alright. He’s also Josie’s uncle.”
“Oh gosh. That’s right. She said her mother’s maiden name was Langone. I didn’t think of Ray. Is Josie close to him?”
“She thought he was dead until I told her he wasn’t. That’s what her mother told her. She sounds like a real peach.” I shook my head. “You know if Ray still lives over there?”
“He does. I saw him when I was pulling in to visit Greta just yesterday. Why?”
“No reason. Just want to keep a tab on him.”
Mom smiled. “You’re already watching out for Josie. I might get grandchildren after all!”
“Jesus, Mom. Think you’re jumping the gun a bit?”