“Is Mom’s new boyfriend here?” I asked, helping her up. I had no idea why I was helping her since she was no more than chubby. She was just lazy.
She wrinkled her face, scrunching her nose until her lips were pursed in disgust and her eyes were unimpressed slits. “Yes, but trust me, you’re better off without him. He’s a creep.”
“Eh, they always are.” I led her into the room and stopped in the door at what I saw.
The wake was in full swing. Grandma had been the life and soul of every party, and apparently, her elderly friends were paying tribute to her by literally putting their lives into this one.
Alfred Jenkins, the head of the bingo club, was currently sitting on the breakfast bar, whooping, and clapping his hands together above his head. Patricia Norman was engaging in what could only be described as attempted sexy line dancing with a few other ladies, and a few of the men looked to be ready to line up opposite them.
“Are they—” I stopped when Leonard Smith bowed so low he had to have help standing up straight again.
“Yep.” Connie smacked her lips together. “Remember how Grandma said she’d started a fitness club?”
“Is line dancing fitness?” My voice was wary. “How are they not putting their hips—oh god, look at them!”
Connie shook with concealed laughter. She had to have seen this before to take it so easily, but I most definitely was not.
Actually, I was feeling a little traumatized as I stood and watched them dance with more vigor than a class full of five-year-olds.
They were pretty good. It was scary, but it was pretty good.
“Lani Montana, as I live and breathe.”
I turned at the sound of a vaguely familiar voice. I ran my gaze over his face. The light blue eyes and gentle smile, all now framed with deep lies, tugged at some deep part of me, stirring the familiarity up to the surface.
“Henrick Walker.” I smiled and put my hand into his outstretched one.
He offered me a slight bow and kissed the top of my hand. “How are you, my dear?”
“I’m well, thank you. All things considered.”
“Of course.” His eyes flicked over my shoulder to where Connie stood. He took one step toward her and touched her shoulders. “Connie. How are you doing?”
“I’m okay.” She smiled, reaching up and squeezing his hands. “Really, I’m fine.”
“You need anything, you come to me. Ada warned me to look out for her girls before she passed.” He closed his eyes for a moment and let out a long breath.
A lump formed in my throat. The man wasn’t from my favorite family, but Grandma loved him and his wife, Ida.
Ida and Ada. They found it hilarious when they were seven and seventy. It was cute.
“I sure will. Thank you.” Connie kissed his wrinkled cheek. “Is it just you and Ida here?”
I froze. That’s a question I probably should have considered asking...
“Yes, just us.” Henrick looked at me with a knowing glint in his eye. “The family send their love, although they couldn’t be here.”
Couldn’t be here my ass.
I hadn’t spoken to any of the Walker family since the day I graduated and left town that night. I didn’t want to speak to any of them, either and I knew Henrick knew it.
It wouldn’t surprise me if the most influential man in Whiskey Key had told his family not to attend.
As if he could read my mind, he winked discreetly at me as his wife, Ida Walker, joined the conversation.
“Here you go, darling.” She handed her husband a glass with two fingers of scotch and turned her attention to us. “My dears!” Ida pulled me into her as if I had seen her every day for the past eight years. After one gentle squeeze, she pulled back and held me at arm’s length. “Lani, darling. You look wonderful. California is treating you well.”
I gave her a wide smile. “Me? Never mind me—look at you! Have you aged at all?”
She laughed her little twinkly laugh and placed an aged hand over her heart.
She could laugh all she liked. The woman didn’t look a day over fifty, and she was a damn good seventy.
Ida rubbed my upper arm. “You always were the sweet-talker in your family.”
“It’s how I got to raid the greenhouse for Grandpa’s tomatoes every summer.” I grinned.
“It’s true,” Connie agreed. “No matter how I tried, I could never convince him to let me go in there first. And she always took the biggest ones.”
“Of course I did.” I nudged her elbow. “I wasn’t going to save them for you, was I?”
Henrick chuckled.
I blanked out when Ida swapped places with her husband and asked my sister about the baby.
Henrick sipped from his scotch before cradling it against his body. “I’m assuming you haven’t seen him since you returned home.”
“If by him you mean your grandson, then you’re assuming correctly.” I shuffled my feet and awkwardly folded my arms across my chest. “I don’t particularly want to see him, either.”
“I’m not going to pretend to know what happened with your friendship—”
“It’s old news. With all due respect, I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about him anymore.”
I was lying, and the glint in his eyes told me he knew it.
“You should be aware that he’s determined to speak with you while you’re here in the Key,” he continued on in a low voice. “He wanted to come today, but I told him it was highly inappropriate given the occasion.”
It was highly inappropriate for him to want to speak to me at all, but whatever.
“Then he should be aware that I’m determined not to speak with him.” I tucked my hair behind my ear. “I have nothing to say to him.”
“Lani.” Henrick stepped toward me, his eyes kind.
I exhaled. “He wasn’t who I thought he was. It’s really that simple.”
The old man held my gaze for a long moment before releasing it and nodding. “I understand. I think you’ll find that not many people do know who my grandson is—least of all him.”
I tilted my head to the side, but just as I opened my mouth to respond and ask what he meant, Ida interrupted.
“Henrick, we really must be getting back. You know how agitated Starla gets when she’s left alone with the dang housekeeper for so long.” Ida touched both mine and Connie’s arms. “Anything you need, girls. Anything at all, you call me, and I’ll see to it.”
“You really don’t have to—” Connie began.
She squeezed our arms. “I miss your grandmother something fierce. It’s all I can do to look after you.”
I swallowed hard, another emotional lump forming in my throat. “Thank you.”
The Walkers bid us goodbye.
Connie turned to me. “What was that about?”
“I don’t know what you mean.” I spun away from her and went to the table with the alcohol. I needed a drink. Henrick’s words were spinning out of control in my mind.
“Yes, you do.” She grabbed my hand before I could grab a wine bottle out of the ice bucket. “What did he say to you?”
“Drop it.”
“It was about Brett, wasn’t it?”