on the patio and a middle-aged waitress came over to take our order.
“Hey, darlin'! Haven’t seen you in a while. Thought you left this small town for good.”
I knew the waitress was under no such impression. If I'd left town she would have known about it. They probably would have thrown a parade. Just my having lunch here with Grant would set off a whole slew of rumors and innuendo.
“I'll have coffee and a slice of cherry pie.”
As she was writing down my order, Grant said he wasn’t having anything. After she walked away I said to him indignantly, “It was your idea to come here and you aren’t even going to order?”
He just smiled and shrugged as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Pie was for suckers and I fell for it. At that moment it occurred to me that in certain ways he reminded me of Danny. He had the same easy smile and relaxed attitude, but there was something else I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around—something unsettling, though not necessarily bad.
“How have things been going?” he asked pleasantly.
“That seems like a loaded question at the moment.”
“Are you writing anything new?”
“Actually, yeah, I have started a new book.”
“Can you tell me about it?”
“How do you know I write?”
“I have my sources.”
“Hmph.” I'm sure he had plenty of sources all right—all he had to do was ask anyone However, a nagging feeling that I shouldn’t let this go stayed with me. “Did you use the Internet? You don’t know my last name, do you?”
“Reynolds—again, I have my sources.”
“Why the effort? You barely know me and I only begrudgingly spoke with you in the first place. Why are you bothering to find anything out about me?”
“What can I say, I find you unlike anyone I have ever known.”
“And what exactly did you discover?”
“Well, you're an author. You’ve written a handful of books. Your husband died and there was some suspicion in regards to your involvement.”
“All true.” He had definitely been talking to the people in this town.
“And it explains a lot.”
“What do you mean?”
“The way you approach things. The attitude you’ve taken since meeting me, the suspicion.”
“I just don’t understand why you approached me. Or, for that matter, why you continue to pursue conversations with me when I'm so obviously against them?”
“Well, at least, I can’t say I find you boring.”
I looked at him for what I knew was an uncomfortably long time, but it never made him uneasy. He looked back at me as if he were enjoying himself until I broke eye contact. Again, this reminded me of Danny. He had a way of always making me look away first, like he saw past me and into the depths of my mind. When I first met Danny, I found it incredibly unsettling. Over time I got more used to it, but now Grant was having the exact same affect.
I realized I had drifted into my own thoughts too long for polite conversation when Grant penetrated my own musings.
“What are you thinking about?” He looked genuinely interested.
“You remind me of someone.”
“Who?”
“My husband.”
“Thank you.”
“You don’t find it a bit unnerving that you remind me of a man I supposedly killed?”
“No, if he was your husband, you probably liked him—therefore I'm glad I remind you of him. It'll improve my chances of getting you to like me. I don’t believe you killed anyone.”
It made me a little sad that I could be sitting across from this handsome doctor who said all the right things and still I could think of no one but Danny.
“It’s very sweet that you want me to like you, but I'm not dating.”
His smile gave me the impression he was trying not to laugh. I found it nearly impossible to decipher anything of what Grant was thinking. “Good, neither am I. We can be friends.”
“That’s very unlikely.”
“Well, I'm not afraid to take a little gamble.”
I finished the last of my coffee and gathered my purse. I laid money
“Hey, darlin'! Haven’t seen you in a while. Thought you left this small town for good.”
I knew the waitress was under no such impression. If I'd left town she would have known about it. They probably would have thrown a parade. Just my having lunch here with Grant would set off a whole slew of rumors and innuendo.
“I'll have coffee and a slice of cherry pie.”
As she was writing down my order, Grant said he wasn’t having anything. After she walked away I said to him indignantly, “It was your idea to come here and you aren’t even going to order?”
He just smiled and shrugged as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Pie was for suckers and I fell for it. At that moment it occurred to me that in certain ways he reminded me of Danny. He had the same easy smile and relaxed attitude, but there was something else I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around—something unsettling, though not necessarily bad.
“How have things been going?” he asked pleasantly.
“That seems like a loaded question at the moment.”
“Are you writing anything new?”
“Actually, yeah, I have started a new book.”
“Can you tell me about it?”
“How do you know I write?”
“I have my sources.”
“Hmph.” I'm sure he had plenty of sources all right—all he had to do was ask anyone However, a nagging feeling that I shouldn’t let this go stayed with me. “Did you use the Internet? You don’t know my last name, do you?”
“Reynolds—again, I have my sources.”
“Why the effort? You barely know me and I only begrudgingly spoke with you in the first place. Why are you bothering to find anything out about me?”
“What can I say, I find you unlike anyone I have ever known.”
“And what exactly did you discover?”
“Well, you're an author. You’ve written a handful of books. Your husband died and there was some suspicion in regards to your involvement.”
“All true.” He had definitely been talking to the people in this town.
“And it explains a lot.”
“What do you mean?”
“The way you approach things. The attitude you’ve taken since meeting me, the suspicion.”
“I just don’t understand why you approached me. Or, for that matter, why you continue to pursue conversations with me when I'm so obviously against them?”
“Well, at least, I can’t say I find you boring.”
I looked at him for what I knew was an uncomfortably long time, but it never made him uneasy. He looked back at me as if he were enjoying himself until I broke eye contact. Again, this reminded me of Danny. He had a way of always making me look away first, like he saw past me and into the depths of my mind. When I first met Danny, I found it incredibly unsettling. Over time I got more used to it, but now Grant was having the exact same affect.
I realized I had drifted into my own thoughts too long for polite conversation when Grant penetrated my own musings.
“What are you thinking about?” He looked genuinely interested.
“You remind me of someone.”
“Who?”
“My husband.”
“Thank you.”
“You don’t find it a bit unnerving that you remind me of a man I supposedly killed?”
“No, if he was your husband, you probably liked him—therefore I'm glad I remind you of him. It'll improve my chances of getting you to like me. I don’t believe you killed anyone.”
It made me a little sad that I could be sitting across from this handsome doctor who said all the right things and still I could think of no one but Danny.
“It’s very sweet that you want me to like you, but I'm not dating.”
His smile gave me the impression he was trying not to laugh. I found it nearly impossible to decipher anything of what Grant was thinking. “Good, neither am I. We can be friends.”
“That’s very unlikely.”
“Well, I'm not afraid to take a little gamble.”
I finished the last of my coffee and gathered my purse. I laid money
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