On My Way - Eve Langlais Page 0,22
still there.
Byron manned the counter. A youngish man with piercings galore, but a nice guy, so long as you didn’t try to rob the place.
“Is Darryl here?” I’d not seen his truck.
“Nope.”
“Do you know if he’s at home?”
Byron shrugged. “No idea what the boss does when he leaves.”
I could call, but I hated talking on the phone. For a moment, I thought about swinging by his house. Would he think it an invitation if I showed up unannounced? I bit my lower lip.
Better if I went home. I could print out my list and drop it at the gas station tomorrow. He’d see it the next time he went in.
It was as I entered my driveway that the first snowflakes fell, which, considering we were past the midpoint in December, was pretty late in the season for Ontario, Canada.
Winnie’s car was parked by my new garage, and I pulled mine to a stop beside it. I patted the hood on the way past to the house and muttered, “See you in the morning, Betsy.”
No laughing. My grandmother had always acted as if that car could hear her and obey. Having read Christine and seen the movie, I wouldn’t take any chances.
Walking into the house, I found Winnie dancing in the kitchen, waving a spoon around as she occasionally dipped it into a pot. It smelled heavenly.
“Is that spaghetti sauce?” I asked, hanging up my coat.
“From scratch, the way you taught me,” my daughter boasted.
It warmed my heart, especially since I’d learned from my grandma. My own mother, who’d died when I was young, never spent any time in the kitchen with me. Spent little time with me at all.
My cat emerged, a dark gray streak that raced across the floor, hit the small rug by the door, spun, and then bolted off in the opposite direction.
“Did you feed him catnip again?”
“Just a little,” Winnie said with a smirk. “He was whining up a storm when I got home around lunch.”
Poor kitty. I’d been neglecting him for work of late. I’d buy some fresh fish for him next time I went to the store.
“Come here and have a taste,” Winnie demanded.
I sat on the stool by the island and reached for the spoon she offered. I almost burnt my tongue on the hot sauce, but it was worth it. I licked it clean with a groan of pleasure.
“It’s perfect,” I declared.
“Good, because he’ll be here any moment.”
“Who?” I looked a mess. I put my hand to my hair and wondered if I had time to tidy up.
“My new boyfriend.”
“Oh.” Silly me, I’d assumed someone else. “The same one that you went out with last night?” The guy she’d spent the night with.
She bobbed her head. “He is absolutely dreamy. He wanted to see where I lived, so I invited him to dinner. I hope that was okay?” Her expression took on a concerned cast.
Honestly, I wasn’t in the mood to deal with a stranger. It had been a long day. However, I wasn’t about to rain on her plans.
“This is your home. Of course, you can invite a friend over. But I don’t know if I’m ready for sleepovers here yet.” And yes, that sounded a tad irrational. I wasn’t stupid, I knew Winnie hadn’t been a virgin in a while, but I didn’t need to accidentally hear it or worry about it happening a floor below me. To me, she’d always be my baby girl.
“Such a prude,” Winnie snickered. “But that’s cool. We can always go back to his place.”
“How did you meet this guy?” I asked as I debated if I had time for a quick shower.
“He came into my work, and he wouldn’t deal with me. Gave the commission to that asshat Bernie. Which at first made me mad, but then Jude explained it was because if we did business together then he couldn’t ask me out to dinner.”
“That’s responsible of him.”
“Right? Not like Eric.”
Eric was her ex and a married college professor who should have known better than to mess around with a student. I didn’t feel bad at all about the anonymous letter I mailed the dean advising they should look into his inappropriate relationships.
“He’s a bit older than me, so don’t freak,” Winnie warned.
The warning gave me pause. “How much older?”
“Forty-ish.”
“Winnie! That’s almost twice your age.” And much too close to mine.
“What can I say? I like my men mature. Which reminds me”—she shook her stirring spoon at me—“don’t you go flirting or stealing my