Eddie turns around in his wheelchair and thrusts up his arms. “Jules! Where have you been all our lives! Get over here, weirdo!”
I grin. It’s always nice to be called a weirdo by Eddie. What an old butthead he is. Oh how I missed him. Bending down I give him a hug, and he squeezes me tight. Ms. Peterson moves to take out her hearing aids, and I laugh. “Don’t worry, Ms. Peterson. No more complaining and whining from me.”
“Oh? So you’re engaged! Let me see the ring!” Ms. Peterson smiles, reaching for my hand.
“Well, no, I’m not. But I am all right with being single.”
Eddie cocks an eyebrow and snickers. “What the hell happened to you in Wisconsin?”
A boy. A boy happened to me. Leaning in toward the two, I narrow my eyes. “I woke up this morning in my bed alone and I was fine. It felt great to be fine.”
“I don’t believe it. Who are you ringing in the New Year with? Who’s your current fling of the month?” Eddie laughs, poking me in the arm.
“My television, Chinese food, and black and white movies. I don’t need a guy to be comfortable with myself.”
Ms. Peterson huffs and puffs, “Yeah right! You’re engaged!” She scoops up my hand, showcasing the ring Kayden gave me and I laugh at her confusion.
“No, that’s just—”
“My late wife’s ring!” Eddie screams, looking at the ring. “You’re wearing my Eloise’s ring!”
Ms. Peterson’s mouth drops and her hands move to her ears, taking out her hearing aids before she says, “Awkward…”
I chuckle at Eddie and roll my eyes, “No, it probably just looks like the same style.”
Eddie reaches across the table and pulls the ring off my finger. “Yeah it just looks like it says E and E on the inside, huh? Where the hell did you get this? My grandson had it and he would never give this to anyone, unless…” A sudden realization hits Eddie while he looks up to meet my eyes. The palm of his hand slams down on the table, shaking Ms. Peterson’s checkers pieces. “Well I’ll be damned. Kayden’s in love again.”
My face heats up and my hands grow sweatier with every passing second. “What? No. Kayden isn’t your…Kayden is your grandson?! No, that’s not right.” My chair slides across the carpeted floor and I stand. “I have to go.”
“Sunshine,” Eddie cries, and my heart stops beating. He wheels in his chair over to me; and, with shaking hands, he takes my hand in his and slips the ring back onto my finger. Then he pats my hand in his. “Kayden doesn’t fall in love. He chooses to love.”
“No, that’s silly. We’ve only known each other for a few days. It was all an act, anyway. I hired—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. I didn’t ask for your life story, kid. Look, go down to Hank’s bar tonight, have a drink or five, and then ask Kayden to love you forever. It’s that easy! I don’t see why the kids of your generation complicate things so damn much. Put on a pretty dress, get some lipstick, and then go after my grandson. Just be warned though…he’s an actor. So you’ll probably be paying all of his bills for the rest of your life.”
I grin at the happy old man and kiss his cheek, “Happy New Year, Eddie.”
And I take off running to find a freaking dress.
“Kayden, there is no reason for you to stay by my side every single day,” Mom complains, pushing herself up from the living room couch, “There’s no reason for anyone to keep babying me. I’m all right.”
Aunt Sally is in the kitchen, cooking up some dinner for Mom and Dad, while Landon sits at the dining room table with his open laptop. I hate the ass, but the fact that he took the time away from the office to look after Mom says a lot. Kate has been stopping by whenever she’s not working at the hospital, and Dad hasn’t seen his office since Mom had the fall.
Gliding into the kitchen, I grab a dinner roll from the table. “Sticking around for the dinner?” Sally asks, checking the roast in the oven.
“Can’t. It’s New Year’s Eve. The bar is gonna be crazy.”
She huffs, tasting her gravy with her pinky finger. “Can I ask you something?”
“Shoot.”
Her body swerves around toward me and she wipes her messy fingers on a paper towel. “Who’s the girl?”
I laugh, shaking my head back and forth. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Except I do. I know exactly what she’s talking about. She’s talking about me walking around for days humming Hall and Oates. She’s talking about me starting to open my mouth to tell her about Jules but shutting up just as quickly. She’s talking about the patch on my left arm and the lack of cigarettes resting between my lips.