My head whips his way in astonishment. “Are you serious?”
“Yup.”
I let my gaze wander over my family members milling about, laughing and socializing. I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with him. I can’t tell if he’s being serious, if he’s coming on to me, or if he’s teasing and has no condom at all. I have no clue what to expect from him because he’s such a conundrum, so I feel it’s safer to change the subject.
“I’m surprised you came,” I say conversationally.
He doesn’t reply at first, having located Janelle and watching her laugh as she plays with the other kids. “I figured I shouldn’t pass up the opportunity to spend some time with Janelle on my day off.”
“Oh, shit,” I exclaim. “I’m so sorry.”
Riggs glances at me, frowning. “For what?”
“For taking her on your day off. Of course you’d want to spend time with her.”
He raises a hand to cut me off. “No, it’s okay. I want her to have fun, and she really wanted to come. Thank you for inviting me.”
“You’re welcome,” I reply, relieved I’m not encroaching. “Want some food?”
“You did say it would be good.”
“And I said the company would be good too,” I laugh, rising from my chair. “Come on. There’s no way you’ll ever be able to eat all the food choices, so I’ll show you the best stuff. For example, if you don’t like spicy food, you have to stay away from Uncle Abe’s five-alarm chili, but if you like tofu, you’re guaranteed to find it in anything my cousin Rita makes.”
Riggs smiles but doesn’t respond, instead catching Janelle’s eye across the yard. Her face breaks out into a wide smile of greeting and she waves to him. He waves back.
She mimes for him to come over and points to the cornhole boards. He nods and mimes holding a plate of food and eating. She shows her understanding with a thumbs-up.
I take that as an excellent sign they’re improving upon their communication because they now are apparently adept enough to do it without actual words.
I take Riggs through each of the four food tables, pointing out suggestions. He’s an adventurous eater and even tries some of Rita’s tofu casserole. He takes a big serving of my burrito casserole, even though I told him it was a pretty basic dish.
While he’s loading his plate, my family members come up for introductions. Word has filtered around that Janelle is the sister of an Arizona Vengeance player, and people are curious to meet him. I have quite a few hockey fans in my family, yet no one freaks out around him. He even kindly poses for some photographs.
I introduce Riggs to my parents, and I count myself fortunate that I don’t have a mother and father who are overly eager for me to remarry. They don’t shoot me any of those suggestive looks or knowing eyebrow waggles. They don’t try to sell me to Riggs but instead make light yet somewhat reserved conversation to seem unobtrusive. In response, Riggs speaks with candor and ease, something I’m guessing is a great improvement over his prior reticence to engage with people.
My parents act like he’s no big deal, which I’m sure he appreciates, although I’m quite positive at some point later today, my mom will call and politely inquire if we’re dating.
I snag an extra piece of corn bread to finish up my chili and lead Riggs back to the table. His plate is loaded to the hilt, and he’s grasping a bottle of beer by its neck. We settle into our chairs, and I commence pointing out different family members just as I did with Janelle. I try to find something quirky or interesting to say about each person, although my cousin Percy—who I love dearly—is about the dullest guy in the world, so I struggle there. The best I can say is, “He’s a really good accountant.”
Riggs listens as he eats and sips his beer. While he’s not much of a talker, he’s a very good listener.
“Oh no,” I whisper as I see the crown jewel of our family heading our way. I quietly mutter to Riggs out of the side of my mouth, “Whatever you do, just agree with everything she says.”
Riggs cranes his head with a forkful of burrito casserole halfway to his mouth, frowning in question.
I urgently fill him. “Here comes my great-aunt Persephone. Most people are terrified of her. My apologies in advance.”
Okay, that’s a bit of a dramatic segue into an imminent introduction. It’s just that Riggs is so placid and calm, I’d like to see him shaken up a little. The truth is Persephone is in no way terrifying but rather completely confounding, in the best ways, and I can think of no better person to shake him up. I’m actually looking forward to this.
Alice “Persephone” Woodley is not merely a person, and she’s not just my great-aunt. She is an actual brand, having reinvented herself fifteen years ago. She’s eighty-three years old and has never been married, although give her ten minutes to talk about her life, and she’ll tell you that she’s had countless lovers over the decades, both male and female. She’ll even go so far as tell you she’s got one now who is thirty years younger. I don’t know if that’s true or not as I’ve never met said gentleman, but I hope it’s true. Everyone deserves to have something that makes them happy.
There are members of the family who are on the conservative side, and most of them believe that Aunt Persephone is a little touched in the head. Most of us, though, recognize an adventurous spirit who likes to showcase her differences. And while she says the kookiest things—and one will raise eyebrows at almost everything that comes out of her mouth—if you take her with a grain of salt, you’ll understand she’s quite normal, just a bit eccentric.
“Well, well, well,” Persephone purrs as she approaches the table, giving Riggs a very obvious once-over. She’s dressed like a gypsy with a long, flowing dress in rich purples and burgundy, belted at her tiny waist with a silver chain. She has on a black knit shawl with bells on the tassels that produce a chiming tinkle when she walks, large, silver hoop earrings, a scarf tied around her thinning hair, and to show she is still a modern woman, a nose piercing with a tiny diamond.
I take a moment of great pleasure to see Riggs’s shell shocked before he schools his expression into one of polite greeting.
“Now, you are a cool drink of water,” Persephone says as she stops across the table from him.
“I don’t know about that,” he drawls lazily, offering his hand. “I’m Riggs.”
Rather than shake, she snatches him by the wrist and flips his hand palm up. She runs a brightly painted red nail along one of the creases, murmuring, “Your virility line runs very long and deep.”
A mixture of a groan of embarrassment and a snicker of amusement warbles out of my throat. Riggs cuts his eyes to me, and I shrug helplessly.
Persephone traces another line. “You have much pain as well.”
Okay, that’s getting a little personal. Not that talk about his virility isn’t personal, but I happen to know that Janelle and Riggs don’t come from a great background, so I stop this in its tracks.
“Enough with the palm reading.” I reach out and tug Riggs’s hand out of Persephone’s grasp. “Did you get something to eat?” I ask my aunt, changing the subject.