“I just don’t want to talk about it, Gray,” she said. “Later. Not now.”
I was going to press her, but I heard the tears in her voice.
Price must have too, because he said, “So, Quinn. Charmin or Angel Soft?”
“Oh, Cottonelle, obviously.”
Price and I both said, “Boooooo.”
Then he looked at me, smiled, and said, “You know something, Gray, felon sister and all, I think you and I might be meant to be.”
“You know what, Price? I think you might be right.”
diana: a very nice man
I walked into Gray’s that morning feeling a little nervous. “Good morning, my love,” she practically sang.
I smiled. I was happy that she seemed so much happier today. She handed me a cup of coffee and sat down at thekitchen island. “Wow,” I said, sitting on the stool beside her. “Impressive. Looks like you’ve learned to make coffee in the real coffee pot like a big girl.”
She laughed like that was the funniest thing she’d ever heard. “Actually, my sister stayed over, and she got up this morning and made it before she went on her run.”
“Yoursister?”
She nodded. “Yeah. Seems like the allure of Elijah wore off. I’ve never been happier to have to bail my sister out of jail. I think she’s back.”
She smiled again, and she was so glowing that I knew this was more than happiness over her sister. “Well, well, well,” I said. “Did somebody get a little action?”
She laughed lightly. “No action. But I met a very nice man.”
“A man?” I raised my eyebrows.
She laughed again. “Yes. Aman. A forty-year-old, perfect-for-me man.”
“Well,” I said, “that sounds grand. I can’t wait to meet him.” I paused and added, “I may have a little news of my own.”
I put my hand casually on hers.
She squealed. “No way! Oh my gosh, Diana. You’re getting married!” She smiled and hugged me. “I’m so, so happy for you. This is amazing—and that ring. Oh my gosh. Is that a family heirloom?”
I nodded. “The best part is that Frank’s momma is going to have a stroke that he gave her momma’s ring to me.”
“When are you getting married? How did he propose?” She squealed again. “Tell me absolutely everything.”
“Well,” I said, tapping my fingers on the countertop. “That isn’t my only news.” I cleared my throat.
Gray’s face fell. “Oh no. You’re moving away. You’re moving far, far away, and we’re never going to see you again.”
“We love it down here. We’re staying put. It’s just that…” I bit my lip. “Remember that throw-up virus I had?”
A voice behind me said, “Oh my gosh. You’re pregnant.”
I turned to see Marcy, ponytail swinging.
Gray gasped. “Pregnant! You’repregnant?”
“I know. Forty years old, supposedly sterile, and pregnant.”
Gray leaned over and hugged me as best she could without making the stool topple over. She was grinning. “I probably shouldn’t say this, but, well, it seems meant to be, doesn’t it?”
