He blew out a long breath. The two of them were going to have a long talk after Anita left.
“I’m sorry,” Anita said as she came back into the kitchen. “Harper wants to get together this afternoon.”
“You can invite her over here.” He grabbed a dish towel and turned around, wiping his hands. Harper would be a good buffer between the two of them. That, and Anita could hang around a little longer.As a friend. As a friend.
“No, I have to, uh, talk to her about something.” She grinned and grabbed her purse. “Thanks again for lunch. See ya at work.”
“See ya—”
She rushed out of the kitchen.
He turned and tossed the dish towel onto the counter, hearing her thank his mother for lunch and tell her goodbye. He caught the excitement in her voice. Now that he thought about it, there had been a sparkle in her eyes as she left.
Wait. She wasn’t meeting Dylan, was she? Last night she’d said she turned him down for a date. Then again, she’d also sung a janky version of the national anthem too. A cosmo-filled Anita wasn’t exactly a reliable narrator.
“Oh, I love that girl,” Mom said, breezing into the kitchen. “She’s a sweetheart, isn’t she?”
She was, and so much more. But she was only his friend. He turned to his mother, prepared to convince her of that fact—and convince himself.
Chapter12
On Monday evening, Rosa pulled into the parking lot of the one-story office building she cleaned each week, still floating on air about Tanner and Anita. While she’d listened to her son as he explained that he and Anita were only friends and coworkers and admonished her not to get any ideas beyond that, she’d known he was full of baloney. Friends. What a load of poppycock. She’d seen how the two of kept giving each other tender glances when they thought the other one wasn’t looking.
She had no idea why the two of them were in denial about their feelings for each other, but she had promised not to interfere... and that was turning out to be harder than anticipated.
Her phone buzzed, and she pulled it out of the pocket of her apron. “Hello?”
“Hello, Mrs.Castillo. This is Dr.Bedford’s office. I’m reminding you of your appointment tomorrow.”
She winced. She’d forgotten to call and reschedule. “I’m sorry, I can’t make it tomorrow. Do you have any appointments open next month?”
“I’m sorry to hear that, but when your general practitioner referred you, she asked us to schedule your appointment with Dr.Bedford as soon as possible. Is there any way you can come in sooner?”
She grabbed her calendar out of her purse and flipped through it. Other than Sundays she was booked solid with her day and night jobs. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”
“Then I’ll put you down for May6 at 3:00 p.m.”
She checked the date, and it was clear. “That will work. I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”
“No problem. We’ll send you a reminder before the appointment day.”
“Thank you.” Rosa hung up the phone and wrote the appointment on her calendar and circled it four times. If she forgot this one, she would have to reschedule again, and she didn’t want to burn up any more goodwill with Dr.Bedford’s office.
She got out of the car and opened the trunk, grabbed her cleaning supplies, and headed to the building. The janitorial closet at the end of the hallway housed plenty of supplies, but she liked using her own tried-and-true ones. Just as she opened the glass door, her phone buzzed again. To have two calls in such a short time was unusual. Alarmed, she found her phone again, relieved to see Erma McAllister’s name on the screen.
“Hello?” she said, balancing the phone between her shoulder and ear as she lifted the buckets again.
“Hello, Rosa. This is your monthly invitation to join us on Thursday nights at Knots and Tangles.”
For the past seven months without fail, Erma had called and invited her to join their group, the Bosom Buddies, for knitting or crocheting, snacks, and, as she called it, news dissemination, which really meant plain old-fashioned gossip. Rosa appreciated the invites, and she meant to attend one of their meetings, but so far she hadn’t been able to. “I’m sorry—”
“Rosa Castillo, I’m not taking no for an answer this time.”
“But—”
“Honey, you need some sweet tea and a few laughs with good friends,” Erma said, her tone more tempered. “Playing with yarn is a bonus.”
Rosa entered the first office and set down the buckets by the door, then cradled the phone. “I will come, Erma. Next month.”
