Chapter 3
ZONA HAD LEFT WORK AND WAS at Stater Brothers grocery store in the candy aisle, hovering over the Dove chocolates, when Gracie called to see how she was doing. The cookies were long gone, and Zona needed chocolate. That was how she was doing.
“Chocolate emergency?” Gracie teased.
“Every day is a chocolate emergency.”
“So, what’s the latest?”
Zona sighed. “Nothing, really. Mom is pushing me to move on with my life and find the last good man left on earth.”
“Oh? And where is he?”
“Next door. She’s already met our new neighbor.”
Gracie laughed. “Lucky you. Is he hot?”
“He’s a regular jalapeno, but it wouldn’t matter if he was on fire. I’m not looking to get involved with anyone,” Zona said, and picked up a bag of dark chocolate bites. They were only a temporary fix, she knew that. She needed . . . something. Therapy, probably. Or, as Angel Ram would say, a plan.
“I wasn’t looking either, until Bradley came along,” said Gracie.
The Ken to Gracie’s Barbie. Zona told herself not to be jealous.
She frowned at the bag in her hand. She’d already splurged on the cookies. She put the bag back and walked away.
“Just so you know, I put the bag back,” she said.
“You have my permission to eat as much chocolate as you want,” Gracie said, making Zona smile.
“I need a more lasting fix. I’ll get there,” Zona added, talking more to herself than her friend.
“You will,” Gracie said.
“Yes, I will,” Zona said.
She walked out of the store and into the late-afternoon sunshine.
The sun’s rays felt good on her shoulders.
Maybe she’d go home, get out of her work clothes, and take a nice, brisk walk on Big Dalton Canyon Trail.
It was hot out but not horribly so, and she could use the solitude to . . . feel sorry for herself.
Stop that. No feeling sorry. You’ll be fine.
“Maybe I need a side hustle. A job waiting tables somewhere. Minimum wage is pretty good these days. Plus, there’s tips.”
“Seriously?”
“Why not? I did it in college.”
“Yeah, when you were young. You’d probably be the oldest one at the restaurant, and you’ll end up with varicose veins.”
Okay, so Zona wasn’t twenty, but she wasn’t that old at forty-two. Forty was the new . . . what? Twenty? Thirty? “My veins will be fine.”
“What about your pride?”
“I can keep my pride and still work.”
Which, considering her financial state, she would be doing until she was ninety. It was a good thing the women in her family lived a long time. Her grandma had made it to eighty-nine.
“But come on, waiting tables?”
“What else am I going to do on the weekends?”
“Go out with the hot neighbor,” Gracie teased. “Seriously, don’t rush into any side hustle just yet. Give yourself a minute to breathe. You know your mother is practically doing cartwheels over having you with her. So let her enjoy your company.”
“Some company I am,” Zona grumbled. “Anyway, I’m definitely not going to go after her hot new neighbor.
Being in a relationship is like trying to win a three-legged race.
I’ve already been tied to two men who just ended up dragging me down.
” Zona sighed. “I’m running alone from now on.
At least I know on my own I’ll be able to finish the race. ”
“Sometimes you can fall running on your own. That’s when it’s nice to have someone to help you get back up.”
“I’ve got plenty of people helping me up,” Zona said. “Thanks for being there for me, bestie.”
“Always,” said Gracie. “And I’m going to start thinking of ways you can make some extra money without trashing your veins.”
Zona chuckled. “Go for it.”
Louise wasn’t any more impressed with Zona’s side hustle idea than Gracie had been. “Why kill yourself?” she argued when Zona shared her idea over dinner. “You’ll already be saving the equivalent of a house payment every month living here. That should help.”
“It will more than help, but, honestly, Mom, it doesn’t feel right sponging off you.”
“Since when is keeping me company sponging?” her mother retorted.
“You might want your house to yourself at some point.”
“Like if I meet a stud on my cruise and bring him home with me? If that happens, you’ll be in the downstairs bedroom instead of upstairs,” Louise said with a wink and a grin.
The cruise. Louise’s floating gold mine of potential Mr. Louises.
When it came to men for her mother, Zona had been thinking more along the lines of her nice neighbor, Martin.
She could understand Louise’s loneliness after losing her husband.
Zona’s dad had been as good-natured as he was good-looking, and he’d adored Louise.
They’d been a shining testimonial for happily-ever-after, and his death nearly six years ago had left a big hole in her life.
In all of theirs. But the ways Louise was trying to fill hers lately made Zona nervous.
“You be careful on that cruise,” she said. “I don’t want you falling for some loser with a gambling habit. Or a drinking problem. Or any other kind of problem,” she added, covering her bases.
“I know a good man when I see one,” said Louise. Her smile faded. “I probably shouldn’t be taking this cruise. It’s more money I could give you for Bree’s school when she starts.”
“You’re already helping us enough. And it’s time you had some fun. Have you decided what clothes you’re taking?”
“Almost. Come upstairs and help me make my final decision.”
Louise’s large suitcase and carry-on wouldn’t hold half of the mountain of clothes on her bed. A pile of shoes formed the foothills below.
“Mom, seriously? The cruise is sixteen days, not sixteen months.”
“I want to look nice,” Louise said.
“You always look nice. And, honestly, you can mix and match and nobody will notice.”
“Someone might,” Louise insisted. “I haven’t traveled in years. I want to do this right.”
Less would be doing it right. “It’s Hawaii. You probably don’t need that many shoes,” Zona said.
Louise looked at the five pairs on the floor. “I guess I don’t have to take all of these.”
“You’re probably good to go with the sandals and the Skechers.”
“No, I’ll need something for formal night.”
“So, three pairs?” Zona suggested.
Louise began pointing to her footwear. “Eeny-meeny-miny-moe, one of you has got to go.”
More than one. “How about the tennis shoes for starters?”
“I might want to play pickleball. The ship does have a court.”
“You tried pickleball and didn’t like it,” Zona reminded her.
“I might want to try it again.”
In the end, no shoe was left behind, although two pairs of jeans and three sweaters were. With a bulging suitcase and a carry-on that looked ready to explode, plus a purse the size of Texas, Louise was prepared.
“You need that many clothes for Hawaii?” Bree commented when she joined Zona and Louise for dinner the night before Louise was ready to leave. “I’d just take my bikini, flip-flops, and shorts.”
Zona hid her smile and refrained from saying anything about their previous conversation.
“You could rock a bikini and shorts all day. Me, not so much,” said Louise. “Anyway, I can’t go on a cruise looking dumpy.”
“You could never look dumpy, Gram,” Bree assured her.
It was true. Louise looked great. She had some wrinkles, of course, and complained bitterly about the crepey skin starting to show on her arms, but she had a lot fewer wrinkles than most of her friends who had been sun worshipers and were now paying for it with lizard skin.
Her hair was a carefully curated blond and she had big blue eyes, a cute, small nose (which she’d given to Zona), and full lips (thanks to a certain doctor in Los Angeles).
“I know I’m not going to look like I did when I was your age,” Louise said to Bree. “Or even when I was fifty. But I still want to look the best I can. I think everyone should do that. How you take care of yourself says a lot about what you think about yourself,” she added.
What did Zona’s hair and scruffy nails say about what she thought of herself? She stifled a sigh.
“And the best-looking women attract the best men,” Louise continued.
“There is no such thing as a best man,” muttered Zona. Way to go, scar your daughter for life with your bad attitude.
Too late. She was already scarred thanks to the bad behavior of the men her mother had chosen.
“There are still good ones out there,” Louise insisted.
“Yeah, right,” scoffed Bree.
“I’m serious. Your grandfather was a good man.”
“Part of the patriarchy,” argued Bree, and stuffed a big bite of enchilada in her mouth.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Louise said in disgust.
Bree shrugged.
“I know it looks like everyone these days is cheating or lying,” Louise began.
Or gambling.
“But they’re not. There are still normal people out there who just want to enjoy backyard barbecues and softball games on a Sunday afternoon and a good movie on a Friday night. Take our new neighbor.”
“No, let’s not be taking the new neighbor anywhere,” said Zona. Though taking him was exactly where her dreams had been headed the night after she’d caught a glimpse of him.
“Neighbor?” asked Bree, raising both eyebrows at her mother.
“Don’t ask,” said Zona.
“He just moved in. No ring on that left hand,” Louise reported.
“That doesn’t mean anything, Gram. He could still be with someone.”
“True,” Louise allowed, “but I haven’t seen anyone.”
“Well, there you go. That proves it,” said Zona.
Louise frowned and pointed a finger at her. “Don’t be smart.”
“I haven’t been, and that’s my problem,” Zona retorted. “I have enough to deal with, Mom. I don’t need anything more on my plate.”
“Meeting a neighbor isn’t putting something on your plate. It’s just being friendly,” Louise argued. “And you can never have enough friends.”
“Sure, you can,” said Zona.
“Give up, Gram. Mom’s not interested,” said Bree, then added, “Thank God.”
“I don’t have time for a relationship, anyway,” said Zona.
Louise held up a hand. “I know, I know. You have to make money.”
“I do,” Zona said, and looked apologetically at her daughter.
Bree frowned, and Zona could see the traces of bitterness in it. But then she shrugged and said, “I’ll come up with the money for nursing school.”
“We will come up with the money for nursing school,” Zona corrected her. “I’m going to replace every penny Gary took.”
“And don’t forget, I’m going to help you with that, too,” Louise said.
It all felt like a small drop in a very big bucket. Even with the pittance Luke was contributing they had a long way to go. Zona was determined to get there though. She didn’t need her daughter saddled with student loans.
“And who knows?” Louise continued. “Once I sell my book . . .”
Bree politely bit down on her lip and didn’t snicker.
Zona didn’t either, but she wasn’t able to resist saying, “The Agatha Grafton mystery novel that you haven’t started yet?” Okay, probably just as bad as laughing.
Louise raised her chin. “I’m still collecting ideas.”
“I think you should collect some more ideas for names,” said Zona.
“Agatha Grafton is perfect,” Louise insisted.
“I don’t think Agatha Christie or Sue Grafton would have approved,” Zona said.
“Well, I’m not using either one of their names exclusively for my pen name, so I don’t see what the problem is.”
“You might when their estates sue you,” said Zona.
It was a moot point. Louise was never going to write that novel anyway.
It was simply something she liked to talk about.
Like learning to play the piano. The keyboard she’d bought at a garage sale two years earlier was still in the upstairs guest bedroom covered with fabric scraps from the quilt she was working on.
“It’s okay, Gram. Take your time,” Bree said.
Louise smiled approvingly at her. “These things do take time.”
“You’ve read enough mystery novels,” said Zona. “You ought to be able to write one in your sleep.”
“That’s the problem. Everything’s been done,” said Louise.
“Nothing new under the sun?” Zona teased.
“I’ll come up with something eventually. There’s always something in the news. You wouldn’t believe what I saw on Deathline the other night.”
Bree made a face. “Am I gonna want dessert after this?”
“Probably not,” said Zona.
“Everyone thought this man was so nice,” Louise began.
“That proves my point,” Zona interrupted her.
“Yeah, Gram. You’ve got to be careful. And you’d better be careful on this cruise, too. There are sweetheart scammers everywhere.”
“I’m aware of that,” Louise said stiffly, and Zona and Bree exchanged concerned looks.
“YOU SHOULDN’T LET Gram go on this cruise,” Bree said to Zona later when it was just the two of them, standing out by Bree’s car. The new Bree, always bossy.
“She’s an adult. She can do what she wants. Anyway, she’ll be careful. Almost getting taken in by that scam artist opened her eyes.”
“That was scary.”
“It was,” Zona agreed. “It’s sad that there are so many creeps out there.”
“You would know, Mom,” Bree sniped, then muttered, “Sorry.”
Every once in a while, the bitterness spilled over like acid, and it always burned. “You’re right. I’m a walking cautionary tale,” Zona said.
“Which is why I’m never getting married,” Bree said forcefully. “I’m not even going to live with a man.”
That again. It wasn’t the first time Bree had made her declaration. She had serious trust issues thanks to Zona.
She sighed. “Your grandmother was right about one thing. There are still good people in the world. Not every man is a creep or a tool.” If she said it often enough, she might come to believe it.
“Enough of them are. Not worth the gamble,” said Bree, making her mother cringe. “Sorry. I shouldn’t use that word.”
“It fits,” Zona said.
“And the neighbor. You’re not—”
Zona cut her off. “Don’t worry. I’m not interested.”
“Good. Don’t even think about it, Mom. We don’t need any more man crap in our lives.”
Zona wished she could think of something, anything to say that would chip off the hard shell that had grown over her daughter’s heart. She couldn’t. She had a shell of her own to deal with. So, she settled for hugging Bree and telling her she loved her. It was what her mother had always told her.
Ha! Look how well that had worked. Sometimes love wasn’t enough to protect people from their own stupidity.