to see super old movies that you can watch on TV for free.”
“But it’s not the same as sitting side by side, sharing Milk Duds in the dark and watching them on the big screen.”
Amber took another look at the man and wondered if sticky caramels were good for his dentures, which were, at this very moment, at risk of sliding out of his slack mouth.
“Plus,” Gram added, “on Sundays they do a senior special. And Elmer said he saved five dollars on our tickets and popcorn combo.”
Not that Pop had been rolling in the dough, but Gram deserved a nicer date than some discount movie theater. Of course, Mr. Murdock was probably on a limited income with his military retirement, but did he have to be so obvious in his money-saving techniques?
“Okay,” Amber said, deciding to focus on the positive. “I’ll give you that the theater definitely has ambiance. So what did you see?”
“Urban Cowboy.”
“And you thought that was romantic?”
“Actually, yes. Have you ever seen it?”
Amber nodded. “Once. About a year ago, when I couldn’t sleep. It was on television. The music was pretty cool—for an old classic—but I can think of a lot better romantic movies.”
“Do you remember how Bud, John Travolta’s character, used to drive Sissy around town in his truck?”
“Debra Winger played Sissy, right? I remember that. He had that big black Ford with those little personalized souvenir license plates in the back window. What about it?”
“Come with me.” Gram motioned for Amber to follow her out to the mudroom, where the porch light illuminated the back steps. Still, she reached into the cupboard and withdrew a flashlight before taking Amber outside.
When they reached the Dodge Charger, Gram walked around to the back and flashed the light on the rear window, where someone had painted Elmer on the driver’s side and Helen on the passenger side with a cursive flair.
“He had it done while we were at the movie theater,” Gram said. “Rod Rogers, from the paint and body shop, came over as a favor to him, and did it while we were inside. Isn’t that the sweetest thing you ever did see?”
Oh, for Pete’s sake.
Okay, maybe it was a little romantic, but did Amber really want her sweet and prim grandmother hot-rodding around town in that green death machine with her name emblazoned across the back?
“So what does this mean? Are you and—” Amber pointed to his painted name “—are an official item?”
“Oh, I don’t know what to call it. We’re too old to worry about labels and nonsense like that. All I know is that Elmer makes me feel special, and I like spending time with him.”
“But now everyone in town will know that you guys are together. These new graphics make quite the statement, Gram.”
The older woman reached over and patted her hand. “Dear, I know it’s not as subtle as, oh, say, a front-page picture spread on an international tabloid.”
“Point taken,” Amber said, shoulders slumping. “But he’s just so different from Pop.”
“What’s wrong with different?”
Everything, right?
Before Amber could begin to list the reasons people searched for soul mates, her cell phone rang. She was half tempted to ignore it, but decided to check the display first.
Jensen?
“Just a minute, Gram. I need to take this.” She swept her finger across the screen, accepting the call. “Hey. What’s up?”
“Not much. I just wondered if you’d like to go out on a date.”
She smiled, and her heart lightened. “A real one?”
“Yes, and then we can go to dinner afterward. But it might be wiser if you met me.”
“Of course. I understand. Where?”
“At the Golden Horseshoe Theater.”
Was this a joke?
“Seriously?” she asked.
“I heard it was unique and a lot of fun.”
And Amber had given Gram a hard time about Elmer Murdock taking her to that ol’ place with the two-bit movies.
“What’s the matter?” Jensen asked.
“Nothing. I was just wondering why you’d suggest we meet there.”
“Elmer told me it’s quite the rage. And while I was in town earlier today, I noticed a flyer advertising a movie I’d like to see.”
Amber didn’t know what to say. The Golden Horseshoe had to be “quite the rage” at the VFW or the Moose Lodge or the senior center because none of her friends had mentioned it.
“Are you busy tomorrow night?” Jensen asked.
“No.”
“Then would you like to join me?”
It wasn’t that. She was trying to figure out if he was stringing her along. Or just what the heck was behind all of this sneaky, I’ll-meet-you business.
Was his real reason for meeting her at obscure places to avoid the paparazzi?
Or was he just hoping no one would see them out and about and realize they were together?
She had half a notion to decline the invitation. And if she hadn’t had such a strong urge to see him again, she would have done just that. Instead, she said, “Okay, I’ll meet you there.” But her heart really wasn’t in it.
Like Gram, didn’t Amber deserve to be romanced, too?
While Jensen and Amber waited in the concession line at the refurbished Golden Horseshoe Theater, he stood like a young boy in a candy shop, studying the reprints of old movie posters that lined the walls.
Could there be anything more perfect for a clandestine date, which wasn’t supposed to be a date, than a darkened cinema on a Wednesday evening?
And to top it off, The Big Country was playing tonight.
Sadly, at least for the proprietor, there weren’t too many people taking advantage of the low price and 1950s ambiance, but there was still a bit of a wait at the concession stand.
Now, with his hand resting on the small of Amber’s back, his arm itching to circle around her, he didn’t care how long the lady in front
