can’t agree.”
Vernie snorted. “There’s no agreeing with a drug addict. Once they're on a roll, you might as well just get out of their way.” While Jordi watched her movie, Vernie and Nicky visited, or more aptly, Nicky answered Ve rn ie’s questions. How had she met Johnny? Did she have a boyfriend? A smile when Nicky had said, no. Where was her family? Did she see them much? Was she close to her siblings?
And after hearing that Vernie had little family of her own, only an elderly aunt who lived in Aberdeen, Nicky understood her curiosity. If you come from a large, extended family, solitude and personal space sometimes trump family ties. On the other hand, a person like Vernie—more or less alone in the world—might tend to value family more.
But after having been raised by a mother and grandmother who talked your ear off, Nicky was perfec tl y comfortable with a chatty woman who asked personal questions.
Jordi fell asleep before the platinum-haired heroine had killed off more than three bad guys. Although that might have been influenced by something about the lack of dialogue that dulled one’s brain sensors. Background soundtrack or not, two cups of tea or not, Nicky was having trouble keeping her own eyes open.
Not that she’d actually had a full night’s sleep last night.
Not that it wouldn’t be heavenly to shut her eyes for just a minute.
Or mayb e just a second…
V ernie smiled faintly as Nicky’s eyelids closed, her head lolled back, and she gently dozed off.
After finishing her tea, Vernie gazed at her sleeping charges with a satisfied smile, and rising from her chair, she covered Jordi with one of the numerous throws in the richly appointed room. Then moving to the couch where Nicky was half-sitting, half-lying, she gently eased her down, slipped a pillow under her head, and covered her, too. After thirty years of practice, she could shift a sleeping person without them so much as fluttering an eyelash.
Then taking a chair that would give her a view of the two sleepers as well as the closed bedroom door, she sat down. Picking up her knitting—all the rage again—she proceeded to add several inches to the argyle sweater she was making for Jordi.
Sixteen
A n hour later, the door to the bedroom opened.
Meeting Johnny’s gaze, Vernie put her finger to her lips, nodded at the two sleeping figures, and motioned him toward the kitchen.
“Everyone was tired,” she said, following him into the small kitchen and shutting the door.
“Including you, I’ll bet,” he said with a smile. “Why don’t I take over now and watch the two sleeping beauties. You rest for a while.”
“Since we’re going out for dinner tonight, I’m going to take you up on your offer.”
Johnny grinned. Vernie never missed a meal, particularly one prepared by a world-class chef, although she was also known to drive ten miles for a good Coney Island hot dog. “Then, hop to it, babe. We have reservations for eight.”
“At Le Troquet?”
“Where else? It’s your favorite.”
She arched one brow. “That’s why you have all the women after you. You know how to charm. Speaking of which, you should think about charming that lovely Miss Nicky. She’s actually normal—with a regular family—unlike most of your other female acquaintances. And you’re not getting any younger. You don’t want to be still dating bimbos when you’re pushing fifty.”
“First, I won’t be pushing fifty for more than a decade. And second, I’ll consider your advice when and if I ever have the inclination to settle down again.”
“You should think of Jordi. Maybe she’d like a woman in the house who is normal.”
“Are you saying you’re not?”
She pointed her finger at him. “You know very well what I mean. I’m not around all the time. Jordi might like to be part of a family again.”
He put up his hand. “Stop already. I’m way past the white picket fence fantasy. Jordi and I manage just
Vernie snorted. “There’s no agreeing with a drug addict. Once they're on a roll, you might as well just get out of their way.” While Jordi watched her movie, Vernie and Nicky visited, or more aptly, Nicky answered Ve rn ie’s questions. How had she met Johnny? Did she have a boyfriend? A smile when Nicky had said, no. Where was her family? Did she see them much? Was she close to her siblings?
And after hearing that Vernie had little family of her own, only an elderly aunt who lived in Aberdeen, Nicky understood her curiosity. If you come from a large, extended family, solitude and personal space sometimes trump family ties. On the other hand, a person like Vernie—more or less alone in the world—might tend to value family more.
But after having been raised by a mother and grandmother who talked your ear off, Nicky was perfec tl y comfortable with a chatty woman who asked personal questions.
Jordi fell asleep before the platinum-haired heroine had killed off more than three bad guys. Although that might have been influenced by something about the lack of dialogue that dulled one’s brain sensors. Background soundtrack or not, two cups of tea or not, Nicky was having trouble keeping her own eyes open.
Not that she’d actually had a full night’s sleep last night.
Not that it wouldn’t be heavenly to shut her eyes for just a minute.
Or mayb e just a second…
V ernie smiled faintly as Nicky’s eyelids closed, her head lolled back, and she gently dozed off.
After finishing her tea, Vernie gazed at her sleeping charges with a satisfied smile, and rising from her chair, she covered Jordi with one of the numerous throws in the richly appointed room. Then moving to the couch where Nicky was half-sitting, half-lying, she gently eased her down, slipped a pillow under her head, and covered her, too. After thirty years of practice, she could shift a sleeping person without them so much as fluttering an eyelash.
Then taking a chair that would give her a view of the two sleepers as well as the closed bedroom door, she sat down. Picking up her knitting—all the rage again—she proceeded to add several inches to the argyle sweater she was making for Jordi.
Sixteen
A n hour later, the door to the bedroom opened.
Meeting Johnny’s gaze, Vernie put her finger to her lips, nodded at the two sleeping figures, and motioned him toward the kitchen.
“Everyone was tired,” she said, following him into the small kitchen and shutting the door.
“Including you, I’ll bet,” he said with a smile. “Why don’t I take over now and watch the two sleeping beauties. You rest for a while.”
“Since we’re going out for dinner tonight, I’m going to take you up on your offer.”
Johnny grinned. Vernie never missed a meal, particularly one prepared by a world-class chef, although she was also known to drive ten miles for a good Coney Island hot dog. “Then, hop to it, babe. We have reservations for eight.”
“At Le Troquet?”
“Where else? It’s your favorite.”
She arched one brow. “That’s why you have all the women after you. You know how to charm. Speaking of which, you should think about charming that lovely Miss Nicky. She’s actually normal—with a regular family—unlike most of your other female acquaintances. And you’re not getting any younger. You don’t want to be still dating bimbos when you’re pushing fifty.”
“First, I won’t be pushing fifty for more than a decade. And second, I’ll consider your advice when and if I ever have the inclination to settle down again.”
“You should think of Jordi. Maybe she’d like a woman in the house who is normal.”
“Are you saying you’re not?”
She pointed her finger at him. “You know very well what I mean. I’m not around all the time. Jordi might like to be part of a family again.”
He put up his hand. “Stop already. I’m way past the white picket fence fantasy. Jordi and I manage just
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