a hickey on his neck during his broadcasts on Tuesday night. Do you happen to know anything about that?”
Felix neither confirmed nor denied. He said, “Talk to you later, Major.”
“Later, Fee.”
Felix disconnected and drove out to Jonah’s neighborhood. Neither he nor Avery would be home from work yet, but he wasn’t going there to see them. Watching the video about the Tupperware container the other night reminded him of a beautiful lady waiting for him to return her cobbler dish. At least he was smart enough to wash it first.
Felix had called Marla at lunchtime to make sure she was feeling up to having company.
“Company?” she’d asked. “Baby, you’re family.”
Amos’s old Cadillac convertible wasn’t in the driveway when he arrived, but Marla was sitting on the porch with Betty, her precious French bulldog, on her lap. She held a hand up to shield her eyes from the sun and leaned forward to get a better look at him. He’d gotten so used to driving the big SUV that he forgot he’d only had it for a week.
“How are my prettiest girls?” Felix asked when he stepped out of the Lincoln.
“Felix? What are you doing driving a car that costs more than my house?” Marla teased.
“It’s a loaner while the dealership replaces my transmission. Rocky is in love with it, and I have to admit I’ve become a little spoiled too.”
“Let me check it out,” Marla said, rising slowly from her rocker. She wore a lavender summer dress, a straw hat in the same hue, and sandals. Her makeup was impeccably applied, and not a hair from her shoulder-length wig was out of place.
Felix hated seeing the toll liver cancer was taking on her, but he admired her fighting spirit. Marla was his kind of people.
“Want me to take you for a ride?” Felix asked.
“If you think this beast can stop at the ice cream parlor. I’m in the mood for a mint chocolate chip cone.”
“I could use a milkshake,” Felix said.
He held Betty in one arm while assisting Marla into the passenger seat with the other.
“It’s so tall,” she said. “Lord, I feel like I can see all the way to South Carolina from up here.”
“It was an adjustment from the Fusion.”
Felix backed out of the driveway and said, “Which parlor?”
“Clem’s. I want ice cream made with natural ingredients on site, and none of the crap that’s pumped full of chemicals and hormones. No wonder everybody is getting cancer.”
Felix drove five blocks to Clem’s. He settled Marla and Betty at a table in the shade before going inside. He ordered two scoops of mint chocolate chip for Marla, an order of whipped cream for Betty, and a mojito milkshake for himself.
“Does it come with real rum?” he asked.
Clem laughed heartily. “I’m afraid you’ll have to settle for rum extract.”
His ladies were excited to see him when he returned.
“Miss Thing,” Marla playfully admonished when Betty got whipped cream all over her face. “You’re making a right mess of yourself. Felix won’t want you in his pretty car, and I’m in no condition to walk home these days.”
Felix covered her hand. “I’m not worried about it.”
“Shh. Betty still needs to mind her manners.”
“Are you giving cancer hell?” Felix asked.
Marla chuckled. “You know it.” She leaned into him. “Thank you for the ice cream.”
“Thank you for the peach cobbler.”
Marla batted her eyelashes. “Come on and tell Mama. Was it the best you’ve ever had?”
“Yes,” Felix replied honestly.
“I’ll be happy to share the recipe with you,” Marla said. “I like the idea of people using them after I’m gone.”
Felix sighed. “I’m helpless in the kitchen.”
“Only because it’s not important to you,” Marla countered. “What about a special fella who excels at cooking or baking?”
Felix thought about the dinner Jude had brought over Tuesday night. He’d been eating the delicious leftovers for days and still hadn’t tired of them.
“Mmmhmm,” Marla said. “There is. I recognize that face.”
“It’s complicated.”
Marla threw her head back and laughed, the sound deep and rich. “Isn’t that always the situation when a man is involved?”
“Touché.”
“Is there hope for you and your complicated man?”
Felix quietly pondered her question, which reminded him of the what-if game he’d been playing the past few days.
What if he could believe Jude was telling the truth about Cooper?
What if Felix could trust Jude?
What if they could try again?
Marla’s giggle snapped him out of his daydreams. She smiled knowingly at him.
“Yes, there could be.”
“But?” Marla prompted.
“I’d have to believe, trust, and try. I’m not sure I can.”
Marla squeezed