The Curl Up and Dye by Sharon Sala Page B

passed.
    They’d had a lifetime of history together.
    She and Randy Joe barely had a year’s worth of memories before he died.
    While Mr. Gerty had been given twenty more years to live, he’d chosen to spend it with the dead. If fate hadn’t turned her life around, she might have come to a similar end. Life was hard, but nobody promised it would be easy, and it damn sure wasn’t meant to be wasted. The only good thing about the whole awful event was that Mr. Gerty’s loneliness had come to an end.
    She was getting up to get some tissues when she heard footsteps on the porch and then a series of rapid knocks, but she ignored them. Whoever it was, she didn’t want company.
    The knocks ended, but seconds later she heard a key rattling in the lock. She ran into the living room just as the door flew inward.
    “Mike! What the fuck? I thought someone was breaking into the house.”
    “By using a key? And while we’re talking, I can’t believe you just said ‘fuck.’”
    She glared. “If I wanted company, I would have answered the door, and I felt like saying fuck because this has been a fucked-up day.”
    He sighed.
    “Dad told me what happened.”
    She snatched the key out of his hand. “So now you know. What do you want?”
    “I am to bring you over for supper. Your place has already been set. Dad has chewed my ass for making you sad, and I’m sorry on all accounts.”
    Lily’s eyes narrowed angrily. “That is the most pitiful excuse for an apology I’ve ever heard.”
    “It’s all I got,” he said, and folded his arms across his chest.
    She glared.
    He glared back.
    “Either you come with me, or Dad will come back and get you. Don’t you get it? When our parents are around, we are no longer in charge of our lives.”
    She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I have to wash my face.”
    “I’ll wait.”
    “I’m changing the hiding place for the extra key,” she muttered.
    Mike wanted to put her over his knee. “Fine. Hurry up, okay? I need to sit down.”
    “Then for the love of God, sit down!”
    She took the extra house key and dropped it in her pocket as she went to the bathroom.
    Mike sat because it was that or pass out. He hadn’t exerted this much mental energy on frustration since high school.
    His phone rang. He looked at caller ID and sighed.
    “Hi, Mom.”
    “Is she coming?”
    “She’s washing her face.”
    “Good.”
    The line went dead. He disconnected and dropped the phone back in his pocket just as Lily came back.
    He got up and opened the door.
    She sailed out, locking it behind her, then dropped the key back in her pocket.
    They walked across the yard in silence.
    “We’re here!” Mike yelled, as they entered his house.
    “We’re in the kitchen,” Carol called.
    Lily dropped her coat on the sofa and followed Mike to the kitchen.
    Carol smiled and waved when she saw them.
    “Sit, sit. Soup’s hot and there’s plenty for seconds.”
    “Smells wonderful,” Lily said, as she scooted into a chair and unfolded the napkin in her lap.
    The first bite was warm and comforting, and the conversation soon turned to innocent gossip about locals Carol and Don knew.
    Mike snuck glances at LilyAnn every chance he got, but he was careful. His parents were too damn nosy about his business, and the last thing he wanted was them feeling sorry for him that he’d wasted his life loving a woman who didn’t love him back.
    Still, after nearly dying last week, there were far worse things than settling for second best. He was alive, and while there was life, there was hope.
    ***
    Rachel and Bud Goodhope were playing cards with Willa Dean and Harold Miller when they heard the sirens taking off all over town.
    “Oooh, I always hate that sound,” Willa Dean said, and stuck another chip in the guacamole dip and popped it in her mouth. “Yum, Rachel. You make the best guacamole.”
    Rachel smiled. “Thank you so much. Cooking is one of my passions.”
    Willa Dean wiggled her eyebrows at Rachel, and