“The usual,” they say in unison.
“Thank you, Dina,” Lester says.
“No problem, hon.”
Ruthie turns to look at me and grins a wicked smile.
“So, Delaney,” Ruthie leans forward, her hand on her chin and a mischievous glint in her eye, “tell us why you ran from Harrison at the wedding. I get why you’d run from him if you knew his grumpy ass, but if you didn’t…”
Before I can answer, Harrison leans back in his chair and huffs. “I’m not grumpy. Why does everyone keep saying that?”
A whisper of a grin is on Lester’s face, and something I suspect is a laugh escapes him. He’s like an older version of Harrison. Maybe a little less tense, uptight.
“Yeah, you are. Own it, son,” Lester says.
A hint of something that looks an awful lot like pain flashes across Harrison’s face. It’s gone as quickly as it came, and I think I’m the only one who noticed.
“Oh, that’s rich coming from you, old grouch,” Harrison jibes back at him.
Lester crosses his arms over his chest and peers at Harrison. “Hey, I’m not a?—”
“Boys, cut the crap,” Ruthie scolds. “You’re both crabby asses. You’ve just had more practice at it ‘cause you’re so old,” Ruthie says to Lester. “Don’t worry at the rate this one’s going—” she gestures to Harrison with her thumb, “he’ll catch up to you in no time.”
“Hey!” Harrison objects. Now he’s crossed his arms as well, and he and Lester look comical.
“Anyway, dear,” Ruthie turns her attention back to me, “Why’d you run from this man, especially the way he filled out his tux that night?”
“Oh, Christ,” Harrison mutters under his breath.
All eyes are on me. I clear my throat.
“Um…”Think, Delaney. Think.“Uh, he… he had a serial killer vibe. I figured I needed to get the hell out of there.” A little humor may defuse the situation. Hopefully.
Ruthie chuckles, and Lester grins. Harrison shakes his head and rolls his eyes.
Ruthie focuses on Harrison and scratches her chin as if she’s thinking. “It explains why you chased after her…” Harrison’s cheeks turn red when she reminds us all that he did follow me.
I suddenly wonder why he did, and why I refused to let myself focus on that until now.
“Nah, you’re lying, young lady. C’mon, tell me the truth. I’ve tried to get it out of suit stud, but he won’t budge.”
Harrison guffaws. “I hardly think sending me inappropriate texts every morning is going to make me prone to telling you anything,” Harrison advises.
Color me intrigued.
“Hey, I warned you. Tell me or else. You chose the or else. I can’t help it if I know exactly how to get to you—wear you down slow and steady by annoying you.” Ruthie smiles, clearly proud of herself.
“I could just block you.” Harrison looks smug.
Ruthie tilts her head in challenge, her gaze pinned on him.
“You could, but ya won’t. Not when I regularly babysit your nieces. You wouldn’t risk our ladybug Layla wanting to call her UncleHarryand not being able to get through. Would you, now?” Confidence rolls off Ruthie.
Harrison glares at her. “You’re insufferable?—”
“Harrison! That’s not nice.” It comes out louder than I intend, and all eyes are on me.
“Yeah, Harrison. That’s notnice,” Ruthie taunts. “In fact, it seems kinda… grumpy.”
