Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Rita patiently waited at her kitchen door while we rinsed the sand from our feet.
When she ushered us inside, she asked Brad to take her casserole from the oven while I poured coffee for each of us.
Sitting at the head of the table, she looked regal, as a dignitary or a celebrity did, and I told her so.
“That’s all well and good,” she said with a chuckle. “I like a little pomp and circumstance every once in a while.”
She had set the table with her fine china and poured orange juice into her crystal glassware. While I was up, I cut squares into her biscuit, sausage, eggs, and cheese casserole, then served each person. “A meal fit for a queen and her entourage,” I teased. “You were up mighty early this morning.”
“True. I’ll need a nap this afternoon so I’m chipper when Wyatt gets here.”
“What time will that be?” Brad asked.
“I have no idea, but we’re all going out to dinner tonight. I’ve made reservations for five o’clock at the place we usually have brunch. That should satisfy Alicia because she has the hots for that waiter.”
“It’s a nice place,” I said, stifling a giggle.
“Yes, it is. They jack up the price for dinner, but it’s a special occasion. Let’s use your car, Jodie, since I don’t want to ride in a pickup truck.”
“We’re invited?” Brad asked.
“Of course you are. What part of ‘we’re all going out’ don’t you understand?” She gave him a challenging gaze, then laughed. “I’ll count on you and Jodie to keep the conversation moving along in case Heather’s daughter throws a hissy fit.”
“Do you think that will happen?” he questioned.
“I don’t know because she has her issues.”
“So,” Brad said, “she doesn’t want her mother sleeping with your grandson. What else is new?”
Rita sighed. “Frankly, Alicia won’t be happy with anyone who takes her father’s place, not that he’s a winner. I feel sorry for Wyatt having to deal with that nonsense.” She picked up her fork and began to eat.
We followed suit, which brought to mind movies I’d seen where guests didn’t eat until the hostess took the first bite. It made me wonder if Rita realized her power.
Brad complimented her cooking skills. “This is really tasty, Rita. Did you create the recipe?”
She gave him an ecstatic grin. “No, I saw it on one of those TV cooking shows. Of course, I do my own thing, so I never know how it will turn out.”
“Well, it’s delicious,” he said, “and I thank you for thinking of us this morning. What’s the special occasion this evening?”
“I’m celebrating that my grandson is coming to see me, and I wanted both of you to be a part of my joy. I figured I should also include Heather since she has connected with Wyatt, and I can’t leave out her daughter.”
Brad nodded. “We appreciate your invitation; at least I do.”
“Me, too,” I agreed. “Did you know I also wouldn’t let Brad drive me in his pickup? In my defense, I had to interview the tour guide at Longwood Gardens, so I needed to look professional for the magazine, and I didn’t know my neighbor very well.”
“So,” she said, “you acted all hoity-toity when he offered to give up an afternoon to drive you to a location you didn’t know?”
“I guess so,” I stammered. I wondered if she’d forgotten her own haughty statement. “Did you not think the same thing several moments ago?”
“Not really. Ever since my hip replacement, I don’t have the same range of motion. Basically, I can’t get into the passenger seat of a pickup truck very easily.”
“Oh,” I said, wanting to crawl under my seat.
Brad relieved the awkward moment by saying, “Tell her how I picked you up in my dad’s vintage Cadillac.”
I couldn’t help laughing. “Oh, my gosh, Rita. If you could have seen my face when he pulled up in that caddy.”
She chuckled with delight. “He got you good!”
“Yes, he did, and I’ve never told him again that I wouldn’t ride in his pickup truck. I’m pretty sure, though, he’d find another vehicle if I couldn’t climb up to the passenger seat. That’s the kind of guy he is.”
Rita smiled, gazing at each of us as she said, “You definitely belong together, and I’m so glad you shared that story. Would you mind my using it on your wedding day?”
Brad and I looked into each other’s eyes before we laughed. “It doesn’t matter to me,” I said, “because it’s a funny story we’ll often tell anyway.”
“I think it defines the two of you,” she stated, reaching for her next scoop of casserole.
I liked that we had a definition, although I wasn’t sure what that entailed. Perhaps she meant Brad and I were learning how to accommodate to each other, and I couldn’t help but agree.
Brad and I spent the afternoon in Ocean City; just a thirty-five minute ride from Stone Harbor.
Some of the boardwalk shops, still open on weekends, drew us in, and we bought candy treats for Brad’s business associates and our friends.
He reminded me that we couldn’t leave the shore without bringing back salt water taffy and fudge because of the honored tradition.
I enjoyed our time together. He always surprised me with a side of him I hadn’t seen before, yet he never disappointed me. We even laughed about our favorite flavors of candy. He liked licorice and I liked spearmint leaves, but we both liked chocolate caramel.
We lugged our purchases to the bed of his truck, yet worried that the bags of one-pound boxes would sail with a strong wind. “Let’s transfer them all to the back of my SUV,” I suggested.
“We could,” he agreed. “Will we both be leaving tomorrow? With Wyatt returning, Rita might need your apartment.”
I paused, thinking. “That’s a good point. For some reason, I should probably ask her if she’d like me to stay.”
He nodded while pressing the key fob to open our doors. I wondered if he wanted me to come back to Pennsylvania, though I didn’t think I should ask. Surely, he’d tell me if he did.
“Well,” he remarked, “let’s head back to your apartment. All of this salt air is making me sleepy, and we might have time for a nap before going out to dinner.”
I didn’t feel tired, nor did I think he’d used a ruse to seduce me. He genuinely looked drowsy.
We hopped up into our seats in his pickup truck, and I carefully watched his expression as I fastened my seatbelt. I didn’t see anything worrisome, as if he looked too sleepy to drive, so I merely pointed out the direction to Rita’s house.
We didn’t talk a lot on the way there, but I attributed that to his fatigue. When we pulled into the driveway, I asked, “Would you like to take a nap together?”
He grinned. “That would be nice, but not in bed. I’d like to lie on the sofa with the sliding doors open to hear the sound of the ocean. Can we do that?”
“Sure,” I said. “I’ll prop my feet up in the chair next to you and work on my laptop. Mom sent a schematic of our reception seating and I wanted to look it over carefully.”
He gave me a quirky smile. “Better you than me.”
“Except most of them are your friends.”
“Honestly,” he said, “at this point, I think most of them are our friends.”
I really liked the sound of that.