“I bet. She’s not coming here, is she?”
“Not for the party. If Mitch reports back that I’ve fallen into the clutches of an evil, scheming temptress, she’ll be here. Otherwise, she doesn’t come home much.”
Emma knelt in front of the garden bed and went back to planting pink flowers. “You said she lives in New Mexico. What does she do?”
“She waits tables at a truck stop to support the deadbeat artist wanna-be who swept her off her feet and talked her into dropping out of college when she was nineteen.”
“Oh. I guess that’s not a happy story.”
“No. But she’s as stubborn as all four of us boys put together and I think she stays with him just so she won’t have to admit our old man was right.”
“Even though he passed away almost a decade ago? That’s…stubborn.”
“That’s Liz.” He scowled at the mulch she pushed in his direction. “We’ve all tried to talk some sense into her and we’ve had a few chats with him, too, but she won’t leave him.”
“Are they married?”
He snorted. “No. Asshole’s too much of a free spirit to embrace government regulation of their relationship.”
“One of those, huh?”
“Yeah. She’ll get tired of his shit eventually. I hope.”
“So none of you are married?”
“Nope. Liz has been wasting her time with her deadbeat for thirteen years. Ryan’s divorced. And Mitch, Josh and I are too hard to pin down.”
“You mean you haven’t found women willing to put up with your shit yet.”
He laughed. “Pretty much.”
Of course, he hadn’t been looking too hard, either. But he imagined when it was time to look—way down the road—he’d probably fall for somebody like Emma. She was smart and funny and loyal to her family. And, unlike a lot of women, she didn’t take any of his crap.
Sure, she had some annoying habits. Like those little moaning sounds she made in her sleep. And she could be a bit of a smart-ass. The cleaning thing, of course. She’d taken a toothbrush to his sneakers the other night and they weren’t even really broken in yet.
But, overall, if the urge to settle down ever struck him, he wouldn’t mind a woman like Emma.
“It’s all a sham?” Russell leaned against his counter, shaking his head. “The living together? The engagement? All a lie?”
“Yes.” Cat sighed. It was a little embarrassing to admit Emma would resort to such an elaborate scheme to protect her peace of mind. But she’d told him the whole thing anyway, including her conversation with Mary Kowalski, while he chuckled.
“She must really love you to go to all that trouble,” he said when she was through, and Cat smiled.
“I guess you’re right. She’s a good girl, even if she did think I’d fall for this.” But she hadn’t worked up her courage and come into town to talk about Emma. “You owe me a dance, Russell Walker.”
He gave her a sheepish smile. “I’m keeping my eye out for a nice place to take you. Heard there’s a chem-free graduation fundraiser dance Saturday after next at the high school for the older crowd. It won’t be fancy, but it’s close and for a good cause.”
“That might be nice.”
“So it’s a date, then?”
A date? What the heck was she doing dating at her age? “It’s a date.”
“Good. Are you and the kids doing anything for the Fourth?”
“We’re going to spend the day with the Kowalskis and then all go over and watch the fireworks go off over the big lake.”
He nodded. “Dani and Roger always do that, too.”
Cat picked up the bag of clearanced gardening tools she’d bought just to have an excuse to stop into the hardware store. “If you go with them, maybe I’ll see you there.”
“Maybe you will. Where are you off to now?”
“I’m driving down to Concord to meet Mary Kowalski for lunch.”
“Those poor kids don’t stand a chance, do they?”
She laughed. “Nope.”
Mary was already waiting at the fancy café they’d chosen because it was unlikely to attract any of the other family members and they could have a friendly lunch. Cat was older than her, of course, but not by much. She’d had Johnny young and Johnny and his wife had been young when they had Emma.
Mary had gotten them a pitcher of water, but they both asked for tea to go with the salads they reluctantly ordered. With all the barbequing going on, they had to be good when they had the chance. Cat still had guilt over the hash-and-cheese omelet and it had been almost a week.
They chatted about family and the weather until the salads arrived, and then Mary broached the subject of Sean and Emma. “How are things going between them?”
“I found out she sleeps on the couch in the bedroom. When I knocked on the door, I could hear her crossing the room to get into the bed before she called me to come in. And her phone, which she uses as an alarm clock, was plugged in next to the couch, too.”