Flirting with Temptation - By Kelley St. John Page 0,34
she wanted to reach Rowdy.
She stood and took her coffee with her as she padded in slipper-clad feet across the living area to the mantel. Taking another sip, she stared at the urn. It was gray, natural quarried granite, a symbol of strength and dignity, or that’s what the gentleman who’d sold it to her had said when Henry passed on. A cast bronze dome topped the granite, and an engraved plate with Henry’s name, birth date, and date of death centered the bottom.
Gert touched the urn, the coolness of the granite a mighty contrast to the warmth of the coffee cup in her other hand. “What do you think, Henry? It wouldn’t hurt for me to call Babette again this morning, would it? I have been so lonely, you know. I mean, no one would ever take your place, never, but it would be nice to share my life with someone again. If that’s okay with you,” she added, nodding as she mentally modified what she wanted her granddaughter to do. “I believe I’ll get her to find his phone number and address, but I won’t have her actually call him. I’ll just get it, in case I decide to get in touch with him again. And I won’t get in touch with him until you’ve given it your stamp of approval. So you’ve got to let me know, somehow. I know. It won’t happen here, will it? But I’ve got an idea that I think might work, a way you can tell me what’s what, and let me know what you want me to do.”
She bobbed her head slowly as she realized that she’d made her decision. She didn’t want to do anything to hurt her first love, even if he were no longer physically here. Glancing at the clock, she decided to give Babette a while longer before she called, in case she slept late.
Then she looked back toward the urn and wondered why she so often found the need to converse with it. Goodness knows Henry wasn’t going to give her any answers from there. The gray granite was exactly what the salesperson had said, strong and dignified. But, what Gertrude knew, and what she’d probably have to tell her family members eventually, was that the elaborate piece in the center of her mantel . . . was empty.
“Hello, can I speak to Rowdy Slidell please?” Babette asked, then nodded as yet another Slidell in Tuscaloosa told her that she had the wrong number. She’d been calling the numbers on the list ever since Granny Gert woke her up this morning and informed her that she didn’t want Babette to actually talk to Rowdy; she simply wanted her to get his information so Granny could decide whether or not to call him herself.
Babette had been working on the list sporadically throughout the day, between checking to see if Jeff had returned from work and answering phone calls from Clarise, Genie, and Kitty. Clarise had wanted to find out if she’d seen Jeff yet and make sure that her brother-in-law had been nice; Babette had told her that she hadn’t even spoken to him, so she had no idea whether he’d be nice or not.
Genie had simply wanted Babette’s opinion on the two Love Doctor clients that she was helping out in Birmingham. That conversation didn’t last long, since Genie hadn’t met the clients yet.
Kitty, on the other hand, was not so easy to get off the phone. In fact, she was another reason Babette had only managed to strike fifteen of the fifty-seven Slidells in Tuscaloosa from her list. Kitty had called all day long. Over and over. And each time, she asked the same things in rapid fire succession.
“Have you seen him? How did he look? How did he act? Did you mention me? Did you talk to him about getting back together? Well, if he isn’t there, where is he? Will you go to the store and find him, or will you wait for him to come back home? He usually goes to the Seaside store, you know, but sometimes he goes to the office at Panama City, and every now and then, he goes to the Fort Walton one. You could call the stores and ask which one he went to today. Is he seeing anyone? Do you know her name? What does she look like? Is she pretty?”
Babette had told her, repeatedly, that she hadn’t seen Jeff (a lie, but elderly espionage