He scooted his chair to face her, looking earnest. “Seriously, they’d probably be able to help leverage the Buck Larsen connection. And answer other questions for you, too, like about pens, and grass widows, and such. I was talking to Marlene just yesterday—”
Now she really did laugh. “You were talking to Marlene?”
“Yes, I was talking to Marlene.” His eyes twinkled, and Sorrow wondered if she and the sheriff were flirting. “Apparently they’re having financial trouble. This would be of great interest to them. I take it you’re not a member?”
“Me? No way. That many older women in one room—it’s like a cabal. Each woman’s sole goal to introduce me to their grandson, or grandnephew, or paperboy or whatever.”
“Paperboy?”
“They’ve known me forever,” she said, waving that one off. She sipped her wine, thinking. “You know, though…you might actually be on to something. I’ll have Mom bring it to the Kidd sisters.” At his puzzled look, she clarified, “Marlene’s maiden name was Kidd.”
“Marlene has sisters?”
“No, no, no.” She gave a grand shake to her head. “I forget how new you are around here. Marlene has aunts. Two of them. And her mother’s still alive, too. They’re all in their eighties.”
Billy’s brows furrowed. “I don’t think I’ve met them.”
“Oh, you’d know if you had. Emerald, Ruby, and Pearl. The grandes dames of Sierra Falls.”
“Oh, my.”
“Oh, yes.” She shared a smile with him. Suddenly she realized how intimate it all felt. Suddenly she wondered what it’d be like if he lowered his lips to hers and kissed her.
He looked like maybe he was wondering that as well.
Her heart beat hard in her chest.
The angry sound of water boiling over and sizzling onto the burner broke the moment. Sorrow shot to her feet. She ran to the pot and tossed in some linguini.
“That’s a lot,” he said.
She smiled secretly over the stove. “You seem like a man with an appetite.”
“How’d you guess?” He picked up his wine and joined her, looking over her shoulder into the pot. “Except that might even be too much for me. Though I’ve always believed nothing beats leftover pasta in the morning.”
She nodded her agreement. Nodded, and found herself wondering what it might be like to serve this particular man breakfast.
Nine
Marlene surreptitiously smelled her wrist. She hoped she wasn’t wearing too much perfume. She hadn’t thought it’d been too much, but when she’d walked into the tavern, so full of the aroma of beer and fried things, she’d begun to worry that her Estée Lauder stood out.
She hated having to worry about such nonsense. One would think a sixty-three-year-old woman would have a little confidence by now. But the divorce had thrown her.
One would think a sixty-three-year-old woman didn’t have to worry herself with nonsense like blind dates, but there she was.
Her eyes adjusted to the dark, and she sensed the slightest lull in conversation as folks turned to see who’d come in. Cheeks burning, she walked to the first empty table that was neither too conspicuously close to the door, nor tucked too secretively in the corner.
Normally she wouldn’t have chosen the Thirsty Bear—it meant meeting her prospective beau in front of everyone and their brother, for goodness sake—but she’d hoped to grab a word with Edith. There were no secrets from anybody in Sierra Falls anyway. She could’ve driven all the way to Sacramento to meet the man, and still folks would’ve heard about it.
Pulling off her scarf, she smoothed her hair into shape. She dyed it and had regular blowouts, but no matter how much money she threw at it, gray hair had a life of its own. She hated that almost as much as the lines that seemed to etch themselves on her face overnight.
“Marlene!” Edith caught her eye and waved.
She waved back, giving her friend a smile that she had to force. Edith looked as effortlessly attractive as ever—Edith never had to work at it, and Edith’s husband clearly wasn’t going anywhere. Marlene only hoped the dim tavern lighting was working the same magic on her.
Edith gave one last word to Helen behind the bar before scampering over to join her. “I’ve ordered us a couple of glasses of wine,” she said. “It’s that sauvignon blanc for you, right?”
Marlene half stood to offer her cheek for a quick air-kiss. “That’s perfect.” And of course it was—her friend seemed to remember everything about everyone.