Page 62 of Tangled Emotions
“I’ll work.” Evie grabbed some menus and went to greet them.
Once she was out of earshot, Ronnie turned to face me. “So? Was I right?”
I nodded.
“Edith. You are the only one who doesn’t see he’s crazy about you.”
“He’s temporary.” I stabbed my greasy potatoes. “There is no reason to do anything more with him.”
“Ugh.” She rolled her eyes. “How was he?”
I couldn’t stop the smile from spreading on my face. “He was amazing.”
“Did his kisses curl your toes?”
“His kisses curled my everything.” I laughed.
“I am so happy for you!” She hugged me.
“There’s just one drawback … maybe more than one.”
“Oh god, you’re overthinking aren’t you?” Ronnie took a bite of my food.
“No.” I shook my head. “Like I said, there’s no point in thinking about anything else because we don’t know how long he plans to stay or how he feels about kids.”
“Ooooh.” She nodded. “That’s a good point.”
Dropping my head to the counter, I sighed. “I should’ve told him last night. Then he could’ve bailed and my life would go on.”
“I’m pretty sure with as much as you drank, it was the last thing on your mind.”
My brother came through the swinging doors. “He’s got a job here, and he’s looking at houses.” Big E walked over to get a soda. “I wouldn’t have let him take you home and I would’ve told you not to get mixed up.”
I lifted my head up. “How do you know that?”
“We’ve had a few beers and burgers together.”
I blew my bangs up and out of my eyes and glared at Big E.
“He’s a good guy, Edie.” He gave me a nod and went back to the kitchen.
“So what are you gonna do?” Ronnie sat back and stared at me.
“Nothing.” I shrugged. “One night. I got an itch scratched.” I lifted up my coffee in a toast. “I’m good.”
Frank
About a half hour before the end of the day, I heard little feet running through the empty gym and Matt popped his head into my door.
“Hey, Doc.”
“Hey yourself.” I looked over the rim of my readers. “What brings you here?”
“I kinda need to talk to someone.”
I motioned to the metal folding chair on the other side of my desk. “Come on in, son.”
He stepped in and sat down, swinging his legs and picking at his nails. “I’d talk to my family, but I don’t know if they could help me.”