even the grand finale...the black tie dinner.”
“Black tie? No way I’m rentin’ a monkey suit to eat rubber chicken.”
Not overly enthused.
“You’re a Ravens fan, right? And wasn’t that an Orioles banner I saw on your front porch last season?”
“Yeah, so?”
“So a couple guys from each team—and a coach or two—have said they’ll participate in the autograph session. We signed a couple of top ten recording artists and half a dozen or so movie stars, too.”
Vern shook his head. “My, my, my. You’re a walking, talking sandwich board, aren’t you? I hope they’re paying you extra for this off-duty PR.”
Laughing, Maleah got out of the car. “I enjoyed working with you today, Vern. It’s been a real pleasure seeing the jovial, generous side of you.”
He slammed the Jeep’s passenger door and knocked on its red roof.
“Feel like talkin’ about that man trouble today?”
Was the universe conspiring against her?
“Back in high school, I had a boyfriend. He got involved with some rough characters, and one night, they robbed the convenience store on Route 40. One of the guys had a gun. Loaded. And used it on the clerk. The two that robbed the store and the one who shot the clerk got fifteen years for armed robbery, aggravated assault and attempted murder. Would have been longer if they hadn’t been minors.”
“And your boyfriend?”
“Ten years at Lincoln for driving the getaway car.”
“How long ago?”
“A lifetime.” She sighed. “Seems like a lifetime ago that he was released.”
“And no contact between you two since he got out?”
“Nope. None.” Until the other night. Although she wouldn’t exactly call that contact...
“Then why the big sad eyes? You’re not still sweet on the guy I hope.”
Maleah honestly couldn’t say.
“Was it altar-bound serious? Or just your typical kiddie romance?”
“Serious enough. He asked me to marry him.”
“Tough break for you, and I pity the fool.”
“Pity him? Why?”
“He chose a gang of thugs over a life with you?” Vern shook his head. “Can’t imagine havin’ to live with a mistake that big.”
Her dad, Eliot, even kindhearted Joe had said similar things. What they failed to realize was that she had to live with it, too.
“Nobody’s caught your eye since?”
“Oh, I accept a date every now and then.” But...
“But the guys aren’t him.”
If anyone had said her spotlight-blazing, opinionated old grouch of a neighbor would be the first person in her life to get it, really get it, she’d have called them crazy. Goes to show, she thought, you can’t judge a man by his robe.
They said their goodbyes in the driveway, and as he unlocked his front door, Vern looked at the sky.
“Uh-oh...better dig out the ice scraper, girlie. It’s gonna snow tonight.”
“Snow?” She looked up, too. “I hope you’re wrong. I hate driving in that stuff.”
“So do I. But mark my words. We’ll be sweepin’ white stuff off the steps come mornin’.”
He was about to step inside when Maleah stopped him with, “Hey Vern? Where are you from, originally?”
“Texas.” Laughing, he added, “What, did my pointy-toed boots give me away?”
More like your pointed turn of a phrase, she thought.
“Something like that.” She waved. “Hope I won’t see you in the morning.”
“Oh, you will. And Maleah?”
“Hmm...”
“Have your friends hook you up with some blind dates. Talk to your preacher about eligible bachelors in the parish. Ask your mother if any of her friends have unmarried sons. Sign up with one of those internet dating sites.”
“Sorry, but I’ve been there and done all of that. They were nice guys, for the most part. Just not...not my type.” Hopefully, she’d caught herself in time, and Vern hadn’t noticed that she’d nearly said just not him.
“If you’re gonna be sorry about anything, it ought to be that you’re wasting time mooning over an ex-con.”
Mooning? Really? When had it become the latest go-to word of men?
“Your teeth are chattering, you adorable moron, you. Get inside before you catch your death and let me do the same. I can’t afford to heat all of Oella, y’know.”
Once his door slammed and its bolt slid into place, Maleah went inside and changed into fleecy sweats, then brewed herself a mug of tea and carried it to the living room. Is that what she’d really been doing? Comparing all her dates with Ian?
You’re a shrink, girl; shouldn’t you know?
AT THE FIRST planning meeting for the gala, Maleah saw Ian’s name on the volunteers’ list.
Could this be Eliot’s idea of a sick joke? Was he trying to catch her in the act of searching the facility for her first love?
More likely it was a name-related coincidence. Not that his name was like Joe Green or Tom Smith, but... She’d worked for Washburne in one capacity or another for years, and not once had Ian appeared at any Kids First events.
Maleah carried the clipboard to the sign-in table. “Hi, Darcy,” she said, reading the young woman’s stick-on name tag. “I wonder if you can help me with something...”
The girl smiled up at her. “I’ll try.”
Maleah pointed at Ian’s name on the list. “I’ve never worked with this guy before. What do you know about him?”
Nodding, Darcy said, “Oh, yeah. He’s Terri Hudson’s boss.” She handed the clipboard back to Maleah. “Ms. Hudson’s son goes to school here. You’ve probably seen her around, working with the hearing impaired kids. She has a hearing impairment herself.” She blushed slightly when she added, “Mr. Sylvestry is a sweetie. When Avery—that’s Terri’s son—needs a dad substitute, Mr. Sylvestry fills in.”
