Chapter 2 #3
Tiana was so confused. She’d looked up both her name and her ex’s name. What were all these texts about?
“Knock knock!” Patsy, one of Pop’s favorite nurses, entered. “Hello there, Mr. Matthews, how are you doing?”
“You go first, then we can compare.” He winked.
Her smile widened as she handed Pops a tiny white paper cup with his medication. “Well, I’m doin’ just fine.”
Pops brought the cup to his mouth and tossed it back, then she handed him his water. As he drank it, Patsy turned her attention to Tiana. “I heard you have a hot date with Silas Murphy.”
“No.” Tiana shook her head. “I do not.”
“She’s scared,” Pops whispered. “She got burned, and now she’s scared.”
“No, that’s not… I’m just busy,” Tiana argued as Patsy left the room to finish making her rounds, waving her fingers as she exited.
When they were alone once again, Tiana turned and warned, “Pops, you have to stop.”
She was done with everyone having an opinion about her love life.
“What? It’s true. That boy did a number on you. He stole your twenties, and now you’re lettin’ him steal your thirties.”
“He’s not stealing anything.” Brock may have wasted her twenties, but she’d handed them over willingly. As far as her thirties, she didn’t need a man to enjoy them. Also, she’d barely turned thirty.
“You’re too good a woman to be alone.”
“That doesn’t even make sense.”
“Don’t sass me, Tiny. Yes, it does. You got more love in your little finger than most people do in their entire body.”
Tiana could sit there and argue until she was blue in the face, but she knew it wouldn’t make any difference. Pops would think what he wanted. Nothing she could do or say would change that, but she could try.
“I like being single, Pops.” Her voice was so sincere she almost convinced herself. Almost.
The truth was, she had loved being married in the sense of the institution, of being a wife, of building a family with someone. It was just that the man she’d chosen to say yes to was not a person she could build a life with.
Speaking of marital bliss, that was the reason she was at the senior center. “What time do you want me to pick you up for Mr. Santino’s wedding?”
Thankfully, because of the uptick in year-round tourism, Hope Falls had Uber and Lyft, so having no vehicle hadn’t slowed her down, and she’d explained her selling her Range Rover to Pops, saying she was doing it to be more conscious of the environment.
He was none the wiser that she’d needed it as a down payment for the home he was currently residing in.
“We’re takin’ a bus.”
“You are?”
“Yeah, the few of us who got the invite are.” Pop’s eyes twinkled.
Mr. Santino was a resident of Golden Years and, from what Tiana could tell, Pop’s closest friend in the facility.
She was friendly with him, but his fiancée, Lydia Costas, had insisted Tiana call her Yaya, like her grandchildren.
Yaya had taken several classes, including Silver Zen, Wise Warrior Flow, and Active Aging.
The two were both ninety and announced a little over a week ago on Thanksgiving that they were getting married.
So today at 5:00 p.m., Yaya and her fiancé were tying the knot in the backyard of Yaya’s granddaughter Frankie, who was a newlywed herself.
Apparently not everyone at the assisted living home was invited.
“I thought I was your date,” Tiana teased.
“My date? Can’t bring sand to a beach,” Pops teased.
“Okay.” She chuckled, stood, and gathered her coat. “Well, I guess I’ll meet you there.”
“Hey, where are you goin’?”
“I’ve got a class at Haven today.” She leaned down and kissed him on the side of his face.
She volunteered at Haven of Hope, a women and children’s shelter that served not just Hope Falls but also Pine Ridge, Silver Creek, Shadow Hills, and several other surrounding areas. She taught classes to both the women and children staying there.
“Alright, Tiny, you tell the ladies that Pops says hi.” He patted her cheek.
“Will do.” Pops had volunteered with her on several occasions during food and clothing drives.
She made it to the door when he stopped her.
“Hey, speaking of your pathetic love life…”
Were they? She didn’t think they were speaking of her love life at all, and if they were, she wouldn’t classify it as pathetic. Non-existent, sure, but pathetic? Well…maybe.
“You heard from that deadbeat, waste of oxygen, garbage excuse for a man lately?”
Tell me how you really feel, Pops. “No, why?”
“I don’t know,” Pops grumbled as he shook his shoulders like he had the heebie-jeebies. “I just got that sick feelin’ in my gut, and the hairs on my arms are standin’ up. I don’t like it.”
Pops had what he called “prick premonitions.” He claimed he had psychic abilities to sniff out whenever Brock was within a ten-mile radius or was planning to do something to disturb Tiana’s peace. Combined with the odd texts she’d been receiving, she didn’t like it.
She had no clue what her ex was up to, but with him, it could be anything. She hadn’t seen him since the last time she’d faced him in court for their divorce, the last thing he’d said to her was, “As long as you draw breath, I’ll make your life miserable.”
The thing about Brock was, he never kept promises that he should, like love, honor, and cherish, but make her miserable until her last breath—that was a promise she had no doubt he’d keep.