Heat rises up from the neckline of my station T-Shirt.
“Yes, ma’am. I took her to dinner.”
An idea dawns on me.
“If you’d like the details, I’d love to tell you all about it. Just come on out of traffic and onto the sidewalk. I’ll walk you home.”
“You’d walk me home?” she asks.
“I most certainly will.”
“So you’ll make sure I don’t tip?”
“Exactly.”
“And you’ll tell me all about your date?”
Truck laughs quietly from behind me.
The price we pay in a small town. Gossip is gold. And being the first to hear it from the source? Well, that makes you a momentary millionaire.
“I’ll tell you details no one knows.”
“Ooooh. Well, as long as you’re walking with me …”
I toss my keys to Weber. “Meet me in front of Gladys’.”
“I want to walk with you,” Truck practically whines.
“Nope,” I say firmly. “This is between Gladys and me.”
“I’ll be by later this week,” Truck says to Gladys. “You can spill all the tea to me then.”
“You come on by,” she tells him. Then she looks up at me and whispers in a raspy voice loud enough to carry half a block. “Don’t you worry, I won’t tell him the juicy parts.”
Jesse puts away his pad. He and the chief head to their patrol car. Truck and Weber walk back to my pickup. I escort Gladys to the curb where she rolls up the slope of the sidewalk at the intersection. Cars start to move.
I walk Gladys home, telling her about my date with Angie. I don’t tell her anything after the moment I pulled up to drop Angie off at her home. I don’t tell her we haven’t talked in four days. I’m well aware that everything I say will be town news by sundown. So, I’m careful.
Gladys makes it safely home and Main Street resumes its normal flow.
Truck and Weber pick me up out front of Gladys’ home. The rest of our shift is uneventful.
On the way home, I pass the Ox Cart Flower Mart. My truck slows to a stop before my idea has fully formed. I’m waiting on Angie. That doesn’t mean I can’t take action to show her she’s on my mind.
I step inside the shop, looking around in a daze.
“May I help you, EJ?” Jayme asks.
“I’m uh …” I scratch my head. “I’d like some flowers.”
“Well, that’s a good thing. If you wanted a loaf of bread, I’d have to send you elsewhere.” She laughs lightly. “What’s the occasion?”
“The occasion?”
“Someone’s birthday? An apology? Condolences?”
“Oh. Well. Just …” What do I say?
