“You barely dated Paul for aweek,” Betty argues.
“Well, I bet it’s a week he remembers,” says Mrs. Cabot.
Elijah and I share a glance. On my end, this glance says, “What did your grandmother do to make it so memorable for Paul?” and Elijah’s says, “Please don’t go there.”
“Tell us about that memorable week, Mrs. Cabot,” I urge. Elijah releases a quiet groan.
“It’s between me and Paul,” she says primly.
She’sinvitingme to creatively fill in the blanks. Aloud. To Elijah.
Elijah shakes his head, warning me not to do what I’m absolutely going to do.
I mouth the wordanalin response.
He rolls his eyes, fighting a smile, and turns to Betty. “I assumed that we’d be staying somewhere in the vicinity. Panama City had hotels with plenty of vacancies, but I haven’t booked anything yet.”
“We’ve got it all covered,” Betty assures him. “Paul’s been widowed for a while and invited us to stay with him.”
Oh my God.
I’m picturing a two-bedroom home that has not been cleaned since this guy’s wife died a decade ago. I’m picturing my dad’s house, only without my intervention. A decade of newspapers blocking the door, cigarette smoke heavy in the air. And roaches. If even that sweet place Elijah rented for us in Key West had the occasional cockroach, what kind of bug situation am I looking at tonight?
Elijah starts down the stairs, carrying his grandmother’s suitcase, and I follow to pack my stuff. “Did you notice that both your grandmother and Betty are wearing twice the amount of makeup they normally do?” I ask.
He sighs heavily. “You’re going to have a field day with this, aren’t you?”
I laugh. Because yes, that is, indeed, my plan. “I’m pretty sure it’s Paul who will be having a field day, railing Betty and your grandmother at once.”
His tongue glides over his lip, and his eyes shut as if he is praying for patience. “While the path this conversation is taking was entirely predictable, I’m begging you to stop.”
“And given his age, we can assume it’ll take him forever to finish. Unless your grandmother pulls out the trick that made their week together so memorable, that is. I have some thoughts on that, by the way.”
“I swear to fucking God, Easton,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose, but he is trying not to laugh.
I don’t make Thomas laugh. He isn’t amused when I antagonize him...he’s simply irritated. I guess that’s one more concession I’m making, though maybe it’s Thomas making the concession. How many guys want a wife whoenjoysantagonizing them?
I return to the basement and find my bikini neatly folded atop the bed. Once again there’s this clench in my stomach, a delightful swirl of hormones, at the thought of Elijah handling it.
Maybe I should have been nicer to Thomas this morning. In some ways, he’s the lesser of two evils.
It’sa six-hour drive from Siesta Key to Seaside, but it threatens to take a hundred hours instead. I’m pretty sure thatwalkingis faster than traveling by car with these three—I’m including Elijah because he’s almost incapable of telling them no.
We begin, of course, with a full breakfast and multiple cups of coffee, which is followed by that coffee running right through Betty. She spends an unreasonable amount of time in the Walmart bathroom while Mrs. Cabot does some shopping for Paul. She assumes he hasn’t purchased a single new thing since his wife died and is “in need of a woman’s touch.”
This does not inspire confidence about the state of his home, but I manage to bring up the bit about him needinga woman’s touchto Elijah several times.
“This trip is aging me,” he says, “but it sure is turning the clock back on you.”
I don’t think it’s a compliment.
Once we’re on the road again, Betty and Mrs. Cabot argue subtly about which of them Paul liked better, and though they eventually conclude that they were both more attractive than the classmate Paul married—it seems a bit uncharitable given that that woman is now dead—it’s clear there’s going to be a catfight if we ever arrive.
“Your discomfort is the only thing making this drive worthwhile,” I tell Elijah as we walk into Cracker Barrel for lunch. It’s not even noon.
“You’re hiding your delight in this situation so well,” he replies with a grin. “I’d seriously never have guessed.”
We reachPaul’s home many hours later.
