Chapter Twenty-Four
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
It was Sunday. I’d been married for twenty-four hours, and it was roast chicken day at my parents’ house. Mashed potatoes, gravy, green beans, cranberry sauce, and stuffing. And I’d asked for pineapple-upside-down cake for dessert. Dinner is always at six o’clock. It used to be that if you were five minutes late getting to the table, everything was ruined. The chicken was dry. The stuffing was cold. Lately, my mom was much more mellow and flexible with timing. I attributed this change to the bottle of Jack Daniel’s she kept in the cupboard. Nevertheless, I tried to be on time for dinner, and I did my best today, but I was almost ten minutes late.
I parked at the curb and ran for the front door. I hurried into the dining room and took my place at the table.
“Sorry,” I said. “Time got away from me.”
“I was afraid you were in a car crash,” Grandma said. “We were getting ready to call the hospitals.”
Grandma didn’t mean it. It had become a family joke. It was her place to say it. My mom didn’t look worried, and my father was busy working his way through a mountain of roast chicken and mashed potatoes. I put my napkin on my lap and Grandma passed the platter of chicken to me. I two-handed the platter and Grandma looked at my left hand.
“That’s such a pretty wedding band,” she said. “And it was a beautiful ceremony. At first, I was disappointed that there wasn’t going to be a big wedding, but this was better. Next time I get married I’m going to just have cake and champagne like you.”
“And I didn’t have to wear my church shoes,” my father said. “Best wedding ceremony ever.”
“Where’s the groom?” Grandma asked. “We gotta do one more toast to the two of you.”
“He’s on his way,” I said. “He got hung up at work.”
The front door opened and closed. Bob galloped into the dining room and stole a piece of white meat off the chicken platter. Morelli followed. He kissed me on the top of my head and took his seat next to me.
I was pretty sure I’d made the right decision. It had been difficult. I went with the safe choice. I knew everything there was to know about Morelli… and I loved what I knew. I loved what I knew about Ranger, but I didn’t know everything. Ranger was the man of mystery, and he would always be the man of mystery. There was a bond between us, and it would continue. When I’d told him I was going to marry Morelli, he hadn’t looked surprised. “Babe,” he’d said. “You made the smart choice.” He’d kissed me with a touch of tongue, smiled, and slipped a new AirTag into my sweatshirt pocket. “A box of doughnuts says you don’t make it two months.”
Not the end.