“I’l never forget it,” Jody said, “We al went down to watch. That was worth missing the Broncos on Monday Night Footbal .”
Amy went on, “Now he’s married to Lisa and we al like her.”
I closed my eyes and silently asked the Good Lord if he was busy and maybe could he help me out.
“And remember when…” Amy started.
The Good Lord asked me to leave a message.
“Amy, Eddie doesn’t want to hear this stuff,” I interrupted.
“Yes I do,” Eddie said.
Wonderful.
Jody’s head came up and she looked closely at me.
“See, he does,” Amy went on, oblivious, and she made to start talking again but Jody came away from her drawer and into Amy’s station.
“I’l help you count, Jet. I’m sure you’ve got a lot to do, what with your Mom and al .”
I felt the tension ease out of my body and I would have kissed her if I didn’t think she’d bitch-slap me for even trying.
“Thanks Jody,” I said.
“I’m so sorry, Jet. I didn’t think,” Amy mumbled and smiled tentatively at Eddie then started to concentrate on my deposit.
I guess the Good Lord got to his messages quickly and sent an angel in the form of Jody as his stand-in.
Whatever. It worked for me.
* * * * *
We walked out of the Credit Union, I threw myself into Eddie’s truck and snatched my travel mug out of the drink holder, taking my first sip of caffeine for the day. I needed it.
I actual y needed it laced with Jack Daniels but I’d take it as it came.
Eddie got in and turned to me.
“So, you used to work there.”
I avoided his eyes, looked out the windscreen and sipped more coffee.
“Yeah,” I answered.
“You’l have to teach me the tuck and rol . Maybe I can use it during a shoot out.”
Where were freak flashes of lightening when you needed them? At that point, I didn’t care if it took out me, or Eddie, or both of us.
I turned to him. “Do you get in shoot outs often?”
“Not real y.”
“Then you’l be safe.”
He grinned.
“How’s the kid?” he asked.
I stared at him, confused.
“What kid?”
“The one you had the shoot out with in the hospital,” he answered.
Out of nowhere, I felt the tears hit the backs of my eyes and I sucked in a breath to try and control them.
It was Eddie’s turn to stare at me.
“Shit,” he muttered.
“Yeah,” I whispered.
Devin was a good kid and Donna was a good friend.
She and her husband moved to Montana after he died, couldn’t face the memories and wanted a fresh start. If her last letter was anything to go by, the tactic wasn’t working.
I got myself under control and said, “You can take me home now.”
“I thought we were going to the grocery store.” I looked away and sipped coffee.
“If Lavonne’s stil at home, I’l ask her to take me.
Lavonne may be smal and she can be nice but mostly she’s mean as a snake, no one wil mess with her. You can go and do… whatever it is you do on a Saturday.” He started the car.
“This Saturday, I’m taking you to the grocery store.” Wonderful.
* * * * *
He took me to the giganto King Soopers on Colorado Boulevard. I grabbed a cart and hit the store at my usual pace, which was otherwise known as the I-don’t-have-time-for-this-I-had-to-be-out-of-here-twenty-minutes-ago pace.
I threw things in the cart on the trot and Eddie wandered.
I lost him in the produce section and he caught up with me while I was price checking canned chil i. I made my choice and started the dash but he caught my arm.
“Are we in a race?” he asked.
I looked at his hand on my arm and then at him. Then I lifted my hand and counted things off on my fingers.
“I have to get home and eat. Then I have to help Mom with her exercises. Then I have to pay bil s and balance my checkbook. Then I have to make dinner because Mom and I try to have a sit down dinner on Saturday night no matter what. Then I have to…”
He moved in so close, my breath caught.
“Am I invited to dinner?” he asked.
Damn.
I walked right into that one.
“Don’t you have better things to do? Basebal games to watch? Criminals to bring to justice?”
He shook his head.
What could I say? No?
Okay, maybe I could say no but that’d be rude.
“Oh, I guess,” I sighed (as if that wasn’t rude).
For some reason, he looked amused.
Then we both heard, “Mi hijo! ”
I turned to see Blanca headed our way, pushing a cart that was loaded down with enough food to feed the Denver Broncos, the Colorado Rockies and the staff at NORAD.
She was trailed by another short, female Eddie relative who had a look on her face that was very similar to the one Eddie was wearing.
Eddie bent low and kissed his Mom on the cheek. Then Blanca walked to me, reached up and grabbed both sides of my face and hauled me down for a big, old smackaroo right on the mouth.
When she let me go, she turned to the girl behind her.
“This is Jet, Eddie’s girl,” she said and then turned back to me, “This is my youngest daughter, Gloria.” We greeted each other. I didn’t bother tel ing her I wasn’t Eddie’s anything (or, at least, trying not to be) and I noticed Gloria had a dimple just like Eddie’s.
“You two are grocery shopping,” Gloria said and it was obvious this fact was borderline hilarious to her.
Blanca nodded her head with approval, as if they’d caught us at Dil ard’s fil ing out our wedding list. Then Blanca’s eyes lit. “You’l come to my house for dinner tonight,” she announced.
No.
No, no, no.
“We’re having dinner at Jet’s, with her Mom,” Eddie answered and I felt a wave of relief wash over me.
For about a nanosecond.
Blanca’s eyes widened, then narrowed. Then she burst out in a flood of Spanish and I caught the words, madre de ella, primera, and comida and I knew I was in trouble.
Blanca ended on, “Then you come to my house tomorrow.” No!
No, no, no, a thousand times no.
I opened my mouth to say something, but Eddie got there first.
“We’l be there at six.”
My mouth stayed open.
This was going to put a major crimp in my plans to keep Eddie at arm’s length (that would be Gul iver’s arm if I was Lil iputian).