“Is that true?” Nero asked a few minutes later as he topped off my wine.
“What?”
“About June and her . . .boyfriend.” He said it like it was a dirty word. “Are they ‘deliriously in love?’”
I shrugged. “I guess.”
“Huh.”
“What?”
“I just . . . didn’t know she was dating anybody.”
“You know, you could always—”
A smile ghosted across my lips when he all but ran into the kitchen to avoid my incoming inquisition. It was for the best. I had a weakness for “poking the bear,” so to speak, and my brother was the cuddliest teddy of them all, a real softie. He’d also had a thing for my best friend, June, since we were all kids. And by “thing,” I meant that Nero was desperately in love with her, something that just about everybody in Rose City knew.
Everybody except June.
“Have a good night, Nessie, sweetheart.”
I smiled and turned in my seat to return Myron’s wave. His thick Bronx accent was unmistakable. “Have a good night, gentlemen.”
“We’ll see you at tomorrow’s meeting?” Miles asked, tucking an arm through his husband’s.
They were such an odd couple, the prime example of opposites attracting, really. Whereas Myron was tall and lanky, much like a cartoon out of a Tim Burton movie, Miles was short and pleasantly plump. He also baked the most delicious scones using lavender from the field behind their house.
“Oh, you bet.”
“I’m going to whip up a batch of my lavender lemonade just for the occasion,” he said, punctuating it with a wink. Any other man winking might have creeped me out, but not this queer octogenarian in lavender Bermuda shorts.
“Have a good one, Nero,” Myron called out. Not three seconds later, my brother appeared, wiping his hands on his jeans.
“Take it easy, gentlemen,” he said, rounding the bar to open the door for the two men. “And stay out of trouble for once, would you?”
Miles scoffed. “Stay boring, you mean.”
Nero clasped a hand to his heart, feigning outrage. “Boring? You? Never.”
“That’s what I thought.” Miles tipped his hat. “Come along, Ronny. Take me home.”
“Right away, cookie,” Myron responded.
I had just finished pulling a book out of my bag when Nero dropped a palm on my shoulders.
“You drove today, right?” he asked.
“Yeah, why?”
“I’m going to dip out a little early.”
“Oh no, don’t tell meyouhave a hot date,” I teased.
A quick glance at the clock above his head told me the bar closed in about an hour. Seeing as we shared a house and worked two blocks away from each other, it wasn’t unusual for us to carpool together when our schedules aligned. Even if that meant me spending a little extra time reading or doing inventory for the store while I waited for Nero to close the bar.
“There’s a guy in Longview that’s interested in buying Mom’s Camaro. He’s going to stop by the house and check it out.”
I swallowed, my throat suddenly bone-dry. My heart panged at the mere mention of Mom.
