Chasing Rainbows A Novel - By Long, Kathleen Page 0,43
I’m thankful for Daddy and the years we all had together.”
As we worked our way through the ham and scalloped potatoes and green bean casserole, I stole periodic glances at Dad’s empty chair.
I could almost picture him there. Laughing. Entertaining us with a story from his youth, or asking for an update on our lives.
Most of all, I could picture his smile. And his eyes.
I missed them.
I missed him.
During an uncomfortable lull in the conversation, Mark told a rather lame joke and everyone laughed a bit awkwardly.
Before too long, we each attempted a joke or a story, and in the end, our polite quiet faded away into a sea of laughter--the laughter Dad had loved so very much.
In my brother’s laugh, I heard Dad’s laugh.
In his eyes, I saw the same twinkle that had shone in Dad’s eyes.
Our family didn’t need a life-sized cutout. If we looked hard enough, Dad had left his mark on each of us.
And that was truly something to be thankful for.
o0o
“Laughter is the brush that sweeps away the cobwebs of the heart.”
-Anonymous
THIRTEEN
“QTS AYWW BT VTTWYUE NEYIJU, HSN BT NEZD AYNE ZINESUYXUD.”
-KTWWZNN
Why I agreed to go back to the mall with Diane, I’d never know. After all, the last time she’d gotten it into her head to improve my life through shopping, I’d ended up on the receiving end of a lifetime ban.
Minor details aside, Diane promised me today would be life-changing.
A doubt or two...or ten danced through my brain as we headed out the front door.
“I really don’t think this is necessary.”
She waved her hand dismissively, effectively silencing me with a simple gesture.
“What if I can’t afford this?”
Another wave. An added shush.
“But I don’t think--”
Wave. “Shh.”
“What if--”
Wave. “Shh, shh.”
“Maybe we should--”
“Hello.” Diane’s voice dripped sensuality, her comment quite apparently directed elsewhere.
I squeezed my eyes shut. Please don’t let her see Number Thirty-Six. Her Bernie-needs-a-love-life campaign would kick into the stratosphere if Diane ever spotted the new neighbor.
But it turned out the object of Diane’s attention wasn’t Number Thirty-Six at all.
“Morning Mrs. M.”
“Morning, Freddy.” I gave a quick wave to my on-again, off-again landscaper.
The day was freakishly beautiful for January, and he’d no doubt decided now was as good a time as any to thin out the gardens.
His wrinkled chinos, hooded blue sweatshirt and scuffed work boots made him look more like an Old Navy model than the guy responsible for keeping the weeds at bay.
I pressed my palm to Diane’s back, shoving her pregnant girth toward the car.
“Sorry to hear about you and Mr. M,” Freddy said.
I smiled and shook my head. “That’s life, but thanks.”
Diane planted her heels and ground to a stop, staring back over her shoulder to where Freddy worked, pulling dead sections out of the front flower bed.
“He’s checking you o-ut.” Diane stretched the last word into two syllables.
“No, he’s n-ot.”
“Please,” She whispered as we climbed into her car. “He asked about Ryan. He’s trying to get a read on the situation.”
I rolled my eyes. “The only thing he’s trying to get a read on is whether or not he’s going to lose a client. I could be his mom.”
“Only if you had him when you were ten.”
I had to admit the guy had the most stunning gray eyes I’d ever seen. Yet, in all my years of talking to Freddy, I’d never sensed the certain...something...I sensed in Number Thirty-Six.
As best I could tell, Freddy was somewhere between twenty-five and thirty, but still well below the bottom range of my potential dating pool.
Diane and I slammed our respective doors, but she failed to start the ignition, shifting her focus to Freddy’s taut backside instead.
She lifted her sunglasses and arched one brow in his direction. “You know, the whole older woman, younger man thing is in nowadays.” She turned the key and her minivan hummed to life.
“Oh, that’s me all right. Sexual trend-setter.” I yanked the seatbelt across my chest.
“I believe the official term is cougar.” Diane enunciated clearly as if she suspected the entire concept might be over my head.
She suspected correctly.
“So not me. Can we go now please?”
When we reached the mall, Diane headed straight for the most expensive anchor store.
“You do remember I’m unemployed, right?” I asked.
“That’ll change.” She gave a dismissive wave.
What was up with her and the waves? Had the pregnancy hormones morphed her into royalty?
She grabbed my hand and dragged me across the parking lot and into the store, making a beeline for the shoe department. Apparently, she’d run a reconnaissance mission before she’d picked me