“You’re awfully quiet.” Mac reached across the seat of his truck and took my hand as he drove with the other. “Are you thinking about Piddy’s murder? Revonda Gail told me she was helping you solve the case.”
“She did?” I couldn’t believe she told him when Iris and I told her not to tell anyone. Not that I wouldn’t’ve told Mac—I would’ve—but it was the fact that she had told him.
“Yeah.” He scoffed. “When Gertrude asked me if Revonda could rent the house, I assumed the story Gertrude had been telling us about Revonda’s whereabouts was true, but when I got her background check back. . .”
“You found out she was in prison and not living the nomadic life Gertrude had told us about?” I shook my head. “I guess it was Gertrude’s way of keeping the secret.”
“She knew I had to do a background check, and I asked Revonda about it. That’s when she threw you in there, telling me that you trusted her enough and her insider scoop on crime to have her help you and Iris.” Mac laughed and withdrew his hand when he needed it to turn into the restaurant.
“I do feel terrible for her. She claims she was an innocent bystander when the arrest went down, but I figure she’s paid her price, and she’s getting her second chance.” I did feel bad for Revonda and Gertrude. “But I wonder how Gertrude is going to let this play out, or for how long?”
“Revonda just told me that if I can overlook the background check that she can pay for the rent with the job Iris gave her, and she also planned to live in Sugar Creek Gap.” He pushed the gear shift up into park, and we unclicked our seat belts. Both of us got out, and I waited for him to come around to my side of the truck since it was closest to the door.
“What are you going to do?” I asked. He pulled the door open and used his southern manners to let me walk in front of him.
“Reservation for Tabor,” he told the hostess and held up two fingers. “What do you think about her living next to you?” He returned to our conversation while we waited for the hostess to go check to see if our table was ready.
“I don’t care as long as she’s not doing anything illegal over there. And she does need a place to live, you need a renter, and she also needs a job for her parole officer.” It all seemed to fit together to me.
“Right this way, please.” The hostess held a bottle of wine in one hand and two glasses in the other.
We followed her through the darkened room where each table had one flickering battery-operated candle in the middle of the red tablecloth. She seated us in the back corner, where the place settings were already on the table with a fancy black cloth napkin arranged in a heart.
“We are very happy to have you here tonight.” She put the wine glasses on the table along with the bottle of wine before she pulled my chair out. “Your server will be with you in a minute. In the meantime, we would love for you to enjoy the bread and cheese.”
As if on cue, someone set the bread-and-cheese spread in the center of the table and poured the wine in our glasses.
“You are amazing, you know that?” I said when I realized he’d already ordered the pasta for two. The food was out in no time.
“Enough for you to say yes if I asked you to marry me?” He looked over the flickering candle with the most serious face. He started to laugh. “And by the look on your face, I’m saying not.”
“Mac.” My eyes narrowed, and I tried to play it off. “Are you teasing me? You know I don’t like surprises or jokes.”
“I guess I’m going to keep asking like I did last year unless you’re going to keep dumping me when I ask.” He used his fork to cut into the ravioli before taking a bite.
“Technically, we did take a break.” I reminded him of the few weeks back in the summer.
“You did. I didn’t.” He smiled from across the table and took a drink of his wine. “Have you ever changed your mind about getting married again?”
The big marriage question was what had started the entire taking-a-break thing. At the time, he was ready to move to the next level, and I’d just found out about Richard’s other life, even though he’d been dead for ten years. I had thought the entire time that I was happily married, but it was all a sham. It was a hard pill to swallow and hard to take the plunge again.
“I’m trying to get used to the idea, but I’m finding it’s been pretty hard to think there is a perfect marriage out there.” I knew my words might hurt him a little because I could see on his face that he truly had hoped I’d definitely, one-hundred percent changed my stance on the notion, but I was still a little leery. I picked up my water glass and chugged, trying to push down the words I was afraid would just come out of my mouth without me thinking first.
A bad habit I had, and I generally regretted them once they tumbled out.
“There is no such thing as a perfect marriage, but I do know that I’m here. I don’t leave town. I don’t look at anyone but you. I don’t ever want to be with anyone but you. I’ll be home every night.” He sure did sound like he was about to make a proposal.
My heart quickened. My chest tightened with each rapid beat, and my throat felt like it was about to close up. I looked past Mac’s shoulder and noticed the young boy walking around filling everyone’s water glass. Our eyes caught, and he walked over.
“More water?”
“Yes. Please.” I was thankful for the interruption and held the glass up for him to refill but took it away too soon, which made him pour water all down my dress.
“Oh.” A look of fear shadowed the young man’s face. “I’m so sorry. Let me get you a napkin.”
Mac jumped up from his chair and started to rub his napkin in my lap to soak up what he could.
“I’m fine,” I assured them, not wanting to make a big scene.
“Is something wrong?” Another man had come over after the ruckus had gotten everyone’s attention. He appeared to be the manager of the restaurant.
“I spilled water.” The young man was going to take the blame, but I stopped him.
“It was my fault. I moved my glass while he was pouring.” I didn’t want anyone to get in trouble.
“No.” Mac had a frown on his face. “It’s my fault. I was talking about marriage, and that makes her a little jittery.”
The manager and young man moved on, and Mac picked my purse up off the floor.
“Are you ready to go?” he asked. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t’ve brought it up.”
I could see the hurt in his eyes.
“It’s okay to bring it up.” I wanted so badly to tell him yes. Yes, I want to marry you and move on. But it was so nice what we had. There were no commitments.
I didn’t have to feel like I had to come home straight after work to get supper on the table. I didn’t have to change what I watched on television at night. I didn’t have to worry about waking anyone up when I got up so early for work.
Call me selfish or what have you, but I did all those things before. Mac had never been married or had children of his own and didn’t know what that life was like, not that I thought it was bad at the time. I loved being married. Just not now.