“With one exception. I wanna hear what you’ve been up to. I’ve got a lot of catching up to do. There’s a lot I’ve missed.” He chokes out, “Too much.”
Mom reaches up and grabs him into a hug again, and I hear her whisper, “I’d like that.”
Unc leads her off toward a table in the corner, but he calls out over his shoulder, “You’d better get to work, Willow-girl. Prep ain’t gonna do itself, and the dinner crowd will be here before you know it.”
I can’t help but laugh at his roundabout way of saying ‘welcome back, glad you’re here’ that sounds a whole lot like ‘you’ve been falling down on the job’.
“Love you too, old man.”
He snorts, but I catch the brightness of his grin as he pulls a chair out for Mom to sit down so they can catch up. I head behind the bar and grab one of his craft beers, popping the top, and pour Mom a glass of red wine. I take them over, promising to grab them some food too.
“Tell Ilene I’ll take my usual,” Unc requests. “And get Carrie a special.” I dip my chin in acknowledgement, and Unc tells Mom, “Ilene made chili today. It’s the best you’ll ever have, but my belly can’t always handle it.”
The casual way he alludes to the cancer is a definite change. I’m sure it’s only with the two of us since we already know about his diagnosis, but still, it’s a good sign that he’s being so open.
In the kitchen, Ilene screeches, “Oh, my goodness gracious, Willow! You’re back!” Ilene can’t hug me with a chili-covered spoon in her hand, but she kisses the air beside my cheek in greeting. “Thank the heavens because that stubborn old guy out there needs you. Don’t let him tell you any differently.”
“Actually, he told me to get to work and then promptly sat down with my mom, so I don’t think he’d argue with you.”
We lock eyes, silent for a split second, and then crack up. “Oh, he’d argue, all right. Thinks he can do anything a man forty years his junior can do.” She drops the spoon back into the pot on the stove, stirring slowly as though that makes her next question seem casual. “Speaking of younger men . . . you bring back a particular one with you?”
Gossip from the source, the town pastime.
“Maybe,” I drawl out around a grin.
“Yes!” Chili goes splattering as she throws her arms high in celebration. “You two are the cutest. Glad you got yourselves worked out.”
She gets back to work with her huge pots of chili simmering on the stove, which reminds me, “Oh, Unc said he wanted his usual and a bowl of chili for my mom.”
Ilene hums as she pulls down a bowl, and I excuse myself back out to the bar to let her work. Almost immediately, I’m attacked by Olivia.
“Willow!” she shouts, running for me. She has no problem hugging me, her arms wrapping around me so tightly she almost picks me up.
“Olivia!” I parrot her excited tone, laughing and trying to squeeze her back.
She sets me down, pulling back to ask, “When did you get back? Are you already working? Where’s Bobby? Did you take him back? Holy shit, you should’ve seen him come barreling in here demanding that Hank tell him where you were. It was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
She fans her face, and I swat her shoulder, ignoring all the other questions to answer the most important one. “Down, girl, he’s all mine.”
It feels good to claim him again because he is mine, and nothing or no one is going to change that.
“Yeah, he is.”
“Quit yer chitter-chatter and get to work, you two,” Unc says, sounding grumpy. But when I look over, he’s smiling, his happiness obvious on his lined face and in his bright blue eyes.
“Let’s go!” a loud voice calls out over by the pool table.
“Pull yourself together,” Unc hollers back, “or I’ll cut you off before the party even gets started, Willie.”
The young guy, who has a permed mullet—yeah, both hairstyles on one blonde head—isn’t the least bit chastised, flashing Unc two thumbs up and a big, open-mouthed grin.
My lips lift ever so slightly, fighting a laugh, because Willie’s not even drinking. It’s straight Coke in his glass, no Jack. He’s just excited because Bobby is playing tonight. He’s calling it his ‘return tour’, and while I’d been nervous that it was a coping mechanism at losing