I grunted a thank you. “I guess when it comes to music, TV, and books I know what takes priority. So how about this one: chocolate, candy, or ice cream.”
Andi thought about it a moment. “Well, all three play important roles in my life. Chocolate is good for holy week.” My brow furrowed with confusion. “You know,” she blushed. “A woman’s monthly cycle.” I grinned, holy week, I liked that. “Candy is for on the go, when I don’t have time for lunch. It’s like my very own personal form of speed. And ice cream is hang-over food.”
“Good to know,” I murmured. “Lace, silk, or satin?”
Andi grinned. “I thought you had that one all figured out, hot-shot? Cotton-tails, remember?” I rolled my eyes. “But, if I were not so fond of my granny panties, it would definitely be lace.”
As if guided by forces outside of my control, my eyes automatically dropped to her breasts. Was she wearing lace right now? Was it white? Red? Black? A clearing of her throat broke the lace haze and my eyes snapped back to hers.
“Men,” she mumbled with faux irritation.
“You’re not the slightest bit curious what lies beneath all this?” I asked with a grin as I waved a hand around the front of my body.
Andi shook her head. “No, I most certainly am not.” Wow, that was spoken with so much decisiveness, it almost hurt.
“Well, moving right along, what’s your favorite holiday?” Andi’s smile was slight and wistful. Her eyes got that dreamy faraway look that had me peering over my shoulder to see what had caught her attention.
“That’s easy, April first, April Fool’s Day.”
I shook my head. “Country, that’s not a holiday.”
Andi’s eyes left the distant memory and came back to me. Her smile had dropped. “I know, but it kind of belonged to my dad and me. He was always so busy he missed most holidays, but April first is my birthday and, well, it’s April Fool’s Day. Even though Dad was buried in his own thoughts ninety-nine percent of the time, on April first it was like he came out to join the world for the day. We would prank each other, prank everyone else, and laugh, a lot! And then we would have cake.”
It suddenly occurred to me that even though I had known Andi for a long time, I knew very little about her and her family. I knew she was Bradley’s cousin and that she spent a great deal of time with him, his sister, Alice, and their parents. I couldn’t recall ever meeting Andi’s parents or any siblings.
“What does your dad do for a living?” I asked.
“He was a writer; he wrote mystery and thrillers mostly.”
Now I understood where her book addiction came from.
“Wow, that’s pretty cool. I guess the fact that he was busy so much means he’s pretty good at it.”
Andi shrugged. “He was good, won a few awards.”
“Was?” I suddenly realized how many times she had used the term ‘was’ when talking about her dad. Andi’s solemn gaze confirmed my fears.
“He passed away twelve months ago, pancreatic cancer. That’s how I was able to afford all this, my inheritance.” A thousand questions sprung into my mind.
“What about your mom?”
Andi shrugged. “She died when I was little.”
Oh man, could I honestly talk us into any more of an uncomfortable hole?
“And your brothers and sisters?”
“Only child.”
Yes, in fact I could make this conversation more awkward. Well done, me.
“Shit, Andi, I’m sorry.”
She began methodically stacking books back on the now clean book shelves. “I’m surprised you didn’t know about my mom at least. Gotta hand it to Bradley, he’s definitely not one to gossip.” Her words lacked enthusiasm, and her mood had drastically darkened since my arrival.
“So,” I began, in an effort to change the direction of this conversation, “what should I wear tonight?”
Andi snorted. “You’d be the first guy I’ve ever met to care. Don’t ya’ll just reach into your closet and wear whatever your hand lands on first?”
“Pretty much, but I wanted to impress Casey and Lionel.” I winked at her when she gave me a dumbfounded look.
“I’m pretty sure Casey would like to see you in spandex,” she said with a small smile.
“Can tell you right now that’s not gonna happen. He’ll have to settle with cotton and denim.” Andi shrugged and resumed sorting through the books on the shelf. Her mood had settled into brooding territory. I didn’t do crying chicks. It wasn’t that I thought there was something wrong with the occasional water-works, I just didn’t know how to cope with it. I hated seeing a woman drowning in sorrow, and I hated not knowing how to fix it. Needing to escape the uncomfortable melancholy, I went outside to work on the dilapidated sign.
*
“You’re kidding, right?” I exclaimed as I stood on the front concrete path outside Andi’s store. I had spent the morning fixing up her hanging sign. I had sanded it and painted it, now all it needed was her store name.
“What’s wrong with it?” she asked with a serious look on her face.