The receptionist’s name wasn’t Alice, nor did we need to chat with Evergreen’s director, but that wasn’t the point. Tallus’s charade was strictly to ensure Leroy knew he had an audience.
My wily boyfriend turned back to Leroy, hand still extended, waiting for a handshake that would never arrive. “Are you coming to Nana’s birthday party?” Tallus asked, and I wanted to slap a hand over his mouth to shut him up. “There’ll be cake and dancing and male strippers if I can convince this one.” He elbowed me in the ribs, chuckling.
“I think Channing has aged out of the industry, but there are plenty of other hot young boys willing to audition for the part.” Tallus finally lowered his extended hand. “Anyhoo. It’s at the end of the month. My dear friend Ruby-Loo can give you the details if you’re interested, but we’ve gotta go. Nice to meet you, Leroy, or can I call you Dad? We really should do lunch.”
My father’s face turned puce as he stammered and coughed and sputtered without finding a response. Figurative smoke billowed from his ears. Never in my life had I seen the old man so completely undone. Dad was always itching for a fight, but with Tallus implying we had a close connection with Evergreen’s director, he wouldn’t dare risk a confrontation lest he wind up banned from seeing his mother.
So, although my father likely had a lot to say, he shoved around us and stormed off without a word.
I didn’t move, feet stuck to the floor.
A moment later, tires squealed from the parking lot as Leroy Krause drove off, leaving what sounded like an angry rubber burn on the pavement.
The lockjaw of shock finally released its hold, and I slowly turned to face my smug boyfriend, who still clung to my arm, patiently waiting for me to recover. “You’re fucking insane.”
Tallus lifted to his toes and pecked a kiss on my parted lips. “Just head over heels in love. I may be half your size, Guns, butno onefucks with my Diem, especially that piece of shit.”
I wanted to pick him up and carry him home. Hold him and never let go. Breathe him into my lungs, absorb him into my pores. He was the cure for all the pain I’d spent a lifetime accumulating.
Words would never be enough. Words didn’t do justice to what Tallus meant.
No one had ever gone to war for Diem Krause. Nana had protected me. Boone had made excuses. My mother couldn’t save herself, let alone anyone else.
But Tallus didn’t flinch. He’d once thrown his body in front of a bullet for me. Today, he stood up to my father.
“I love you,” I choked. “I’m so sorry I reacted the way I did.”
“Instinct, Guns. I get it.”
“That’s not an excuse.”
“It’s fine.” Tallus kissed me again. “Let it go, D. No harm done. Let’s find Marcy.”
13
Diem
Alice, whose real name was Rebecca according to her name tag, didn’t mention the strange exchange she’d witnessed in the vestibule. We signed in and explained our purpose. Rebecca informed us that Marcy had arrived early for her shift and was already bustling about. We headed off to locate her.
Evergreen’s custodian was not lingering in the cleaning supply room, so we wandered the halls until a nurse directed us to where she’d last been seen. We found her—yellow rubber gloves to her elbows and carrying a mop and bucket—exiting one of the seniors’ private rooms.
“Hello, Mrs. Daily.” Tallus’s cheerful tone suggested they had been friends for years.
Marcy seemed to take a minute to absorb every nuance of Tallus’s face before recognition dawned, brightening her eyes. “Well, I’ll be. I remember you.”
Marcy set her mop and bucket beside a cart, removed the gloves with a squelch of rubber, and propped her hands on her hips. “You’rethe fella who was with Aaron the other day. He called me up that night and talked a tale about you. I think he’s smitten. Tallus, isn’t it? Are you available? My boy needs to settle down.”
I internally sighed. Everyone was smitten with my boyfriend.Too fucking bad, Aaron. He’s mine.
“Um.” Tallus flushed.
Enjoying his discomfort, I elbowed him. “Well? Are you?”
“Oh gosh.” Marcy went on. “There I go again. Aaron says I’m too presumptuous, and I am. Ignore me. None of my business. What can I do for you, young man?”
Marcy had to be in her fifties, but she could have passed for a healthy forty-something if she wanted to. Her long, thick hair fell in a braid over her shoulder, a rich mahogany that didn’t come from a box. A few flyaway strands of silver joined the mix, but barely enough to count. Her cheeks glowed with a natural blush, and her eyes were kind, creased at the sides from a lifetime of smiling, which she was doing now.
Something in her demeanor made her instantly likable and approachable. Despite the bitter annoyance from her comment, my blood pressure settled for the first time since my encounter with Leroy.
