“I don’t know what that means, honey,” he said quietly.
“It means, not far.”
“Then I’ll catch up.”
“Yousayin’ you haven’t seenSteelMagnolias?”
He studied me even as he replied, “That’s what I’m saying.”
“How are you breathing on this earth, American, and haven’tseenSteel Magnolias?”
His eyes kept twinkling.
Lord.
“I’m not certain how to answer that.”
“It’s the best movie of all time,” I repeated my earlierdeclaration.
“We’ll see.”
We’ll see?
“You don’t get me, honey bunches of oats,” I began.“It.Is.The.Best.Movieofalltime.”
He smiled at me.It was warm.Lush.Intimate.A thing ofpure beauty.
I ignored that smile hitting mycoochie.
“Play the movie, Daisy,” he ordered.
“Don’t tell me what to do,” I snapped.
“Darling, please start the movie.”
Crap.
ThatI felt in mycoochie.
I glared at him, put down my champagne, snatched up theremote, and started the movie.
Needless to say, the food was great.
Also needless to say, the champagne wasfabulous.
More needless to say, it didn’t suck that Marcus not onlydidn’t make me get up to get mybombolonis,he also didn’t make me get up to fill my champagne flute.
And lastly, needless to say, whenM’Lynnlost her nut by Shelby’s casket and I lost my nut right along with her on mycouch in my apartment no matter that I’d seen that scene one hundred and fiftytimes, I lost it again, a different way that time, when Marcus got up, nabbedmy remote, and hit pause.
“What are you doing?” I screeched.
“We should not be watching this film.”
Uh-oh.
I looked at his face.
He was looking at the tears on mine and he was not a happyman.
