“And he’s honestly the nicest guy of the bunch. Well, besides Matt. But he’s taken.” She sticks out her tongue at me.
“Yes. Yes, he is. That big hunka man finally put a ring on it.” I cackle. “I’m so tickled for you, Ellie. But let’s just keep our focus on the happy couple, Ms. Merry Matchmaker. The last thing I want is to have my best friend’s wedding turn into an uncomfortable set up.”
“Oh, I’d never do that to you, Char. Promise. I’m only saying, you two might enjoy each other’s company. That’s all.” Ellie waggles her brows, and I can’t contain my snort of laughter.
“All right, all right. Let me get back to Margaret’s hair before she has to dart to her meeting with half a blowout.” I snicker.
“Okay. I’ll call soon with the date. Gah, Charlene. Getting to see you will be the cherry on top of my big day. I’ve missed you so much. Love you, girl.”
“I love you too. Bye.” Disconnecting the call, I return to my station. I pick up a new finishing spray as I wait for Margaret to end her conversation.
“Wow. Ellie’s getting hitched? And you’re going to go? You never take any time off.” Norma Jean’s mouth falls open in astonishment.
“Oh, please take pictures?” Fancy begs. “I bet the two of them will look like Hollywood royalty on their big day. They’re such an attractive couple.”
She’s right. With Ellie’s long auburn hair, fair skin, and curvy hourglass figure, it was hard to determine if the men lining up at her deli were there for the delectable food…or her.And Matt has been a head-turner since high school.
“You’ve got it. I bet she’ll be radiant,” I utter dreamily. Just stay focused on your friend. How much she deserves this.
Then perhaps the trip won’t feel like I’m taking my life into my hands.
CHAPTER TWO
DAVE
Standingshoulder to shoulder in Mildred’s front yard alongside my firefighter brothers, I take great pains to remain professional as we address Sycamore Mountain’s most notorious 911 abuser. She’s currently holding her prize rooster on her hip, rubbing his head like a puppy. “I’m sorry, Mildred. You’ve lost me. We were dispatched for a possible stroke, and they gave your address. Yet you say you’re fine. So, did you or did you not make that call?”
“Well, yes. But I’m not the one having the stroke.”
“If she says that damn rooster is the patient…” Brecken mutters under his breath. Sadly, it wouldn’t be the first time she’d dialed the emergency line for something related to that chicken. I secretly think the poor fowl has been trying to fly the coop for quite a while.Literally.
Taking a fortifying breath, I push on, already knowing I don’t really want to hear the answer to this. “So, who are you concerned is having a stroke?”
Mildred points toward the fence line at the perimeter of her property. “You need to check on Earl. I felt it was my civic duty to call you. The man has lost his damn mind.”
Matt, Brecken, and I turn and squint into the summer sun to find old Earl Jennings atop his riding mower. He’s minding his own business, cutting his grass with his headphones on. Sure, in Mildred’s defense, he appears to be buck-ass naked. Yet he’s in his yard, pretty far from the road. Not sure how she even noticed he was landscaping in his birthday suit unless she had her binoculars out.Again.
Mildred scratches Purdy’s head. “Ever since Ginny passed away,God rest her soul, that man’s been acting a fool. He has to have had a stroke. It’s the only excuse for it.”
Word on the street is that Earl’s been on the prowl. Not sure if he’s been hitting the local watering hole looking for Ginny’s replacement or simply sowing some overdue wild oats.What do you call a midlife crisis that arrives twenty years late?
As if on cue, the motor to Earl’s riding mower goes quiet. He stands to dismount, and the three of us all wince in disgust.
“What is that? A cheetah thong?” Matt whispers, looking horrified. Earl is not exactly built like Jack LaLanne. Hell, he isn’t even built like Richard Simmons. He’s more of a Fred the Baker, the “Time to Make the Donuts” guy.
“It’s an abomination, I tell you. Ginny’s probably rolling over in her grave.”
Earl takes this opportunity to bend over, retrieving something from the grass. “Oh. My eyes!” Brecken wails. His forehead wrinkles from the force of keeping his lids clamped shut.
“Gotta keep the family jewels cool on a hot day.” Matt snickers.
Blinking rapidly to purge the sight of his geriatric bits from my memory, I turn back to Mildred. “We’ll have someone pay him a visit.” It’s sure as hell not going to be the three of us. “We’ll get someone to do a welfare check. I appreciate your concern.”
“That man’s got three brain cells, and I think two of ’em are on vacation. Thank you, boys, for coming so quickly. Can I get you a glass of lemonade before you go?”
“No, no,” we all say in harmony, waving our hands in the air. I, for one, haven’t quite recovered from the punch she made the last time we were here. She’d initiated an emergency call for backup in case a fire broke out from the birthday candles during a party she was hosting.For Purdy.That damn rooster. I think she just wanted a bigger crowd for his party. Turns out, the punch was spiked with Captain Morgan. Crazy old bird.
And I don’t mean the chicken.
