I cry out in frustration, angrily typing.
Me: Why didn’t u TELL me?!? Had to find out from that awful reporter!
Luc: ??? Check your voice mail.
Sure enough. There it is. That glowing number two atop my green phone icon. One alert letting me know I missed a call, the other telling me I have a voice mail waiting.
Gah!Aunt Bea did too good a job. That’s the last time I listen to her voice in my head saying,A good hostess gives her full attention to her guests.
Me: Turned off alerts b/c Jean-Pierre & Eva were coming to dinner! Where r u?
Luc: Still @ Cash’s.
Me: Stay put. Coming over.
Pocketing my phone, I find Eva and Jean-Pierre watching me expectantly. “Well?” Eva asks. “Is it true?”
Fighting happy tears, I manage a nod.
Whooping, Jean-Pierre pulls me into a hug that lifts me off my feet. Eva joins in, and soon the three of us are clapping and jumping so much it’s a wonder we don’t bring down the balcony.
Yard lifts his sleepy head, yawning at us in confusion as his tail thumps against the chaise.
“I have to go,” I tell them. “Forgive me for running out on our—”
“Go, go.” Jean-Pierre shoos me. “Don’t worry,cher. We’ll break out your twenty-year tawny port and clean up.”
“Clean up the port, or clean up the dishes?” I lift a teasing eyebrow.
“We can do both, yeah?” He blinks innocently.
I squeeze his hand and then squeeze Eva’s too. “Y’all are the best. And in case I haven’t told you recently, I love you both to pieces.”
When I go to duck through the open window, Eva stops me. “So have you decided? About Luc and Cash, I mean?”
Luc and Cash. LucandCash.
“I’m hoping as time goes by, I’ll know what to do.”
Eva and Jean-Pierre exchange a glance.
“Okay, you two havegotto stop doing that.” I glower at them. “What? What are y’all thinking?”
“Aw, honey.” Eva places a sympathetic hand on my shoulder. “We’re thinking things don’t usually work that way.”
Chapter Seventy-five
______________________________________
Luc
Nothing eats at us like the things we need to say but don’t.
My dad used to tell me that. Although, when he said it, it was usually on account of he was aiming to get me to confess I’d accidentally snapped the tip off his favorite fishing pole, or I’d forgotten to bring in the bag of dog food from the porch and instead left it out for the raccoons to pilfer.
Still, it strikes a particular chord now. I need to own up to what’s going on with Maggie. After that kiss the other night, two things have become clear. One, despite her wholewait until Cash is bettermumbo jumbo, shewantsme. Two, if she wants me, I’m aiming to do everything in my power to make sure she has me. And three, given the history between her and Cash, I can’t keep that from him. Even if he claims not to care. Even if he insists he’s stopped wanting her for himself.
Maybe I’m thinking so hard he can hear my thoughts. After I shove my cell phone into my pocket and tell him Maggie is on her way over, he gives me a narrowed-eyed look. “You okay, man?”
