“Too busy,” was all I said, shrugging like it was that simple.
But damn Bettie—she knew things and had no qualms in telling you so. “Did I ever tell you about when Jack died?”
I sobered at the mention of her husband and shook my head.
“We’d barely been married but a handful of years—I was about how old you were when Mandy died.” She paused, considering it before continuing. “I never thought I’d ever move on. And the trouble with that was, when the chance came, I let it pass me by out of sheer stubbornness. Or at least I told myself so … truth is, I was afraid. Don’t be like me, Keaton. Finding somebody you want like that only happens once for most people. If you’re lucky enough for it to happen again, don’t waste it just to punish yourself for something you didn’t do. Don’t let it walk out the door because you’re scared of it. It’s scary, sure, but that’s life, honey. That’s just life.”
She reached across the table and squeezed my hand.
“Bettie, I can’t—”
“Oh yes, you can.”
Before I could argue, she winked and stood up, turning for Daisy.
“Hey, Daisy,” she called from right there next to me.
Daisy smiled, flushing when she saw me. I smiled back and flicked a small wave. On saying something to Aggie, she headed our way.
When Bettie looked back at me, it was with a mischievous look on her face.
“Don’t be a fool, boy,” she said so only I could hear, squeezing my shoulder with her bony hand.
Bettie greeted Daisy, motioning for her to sit, offering a cup of coffee that Daisy accepted. And then Bettie left on a new mission, one that likely kept her away long enough for me to get good and uncomfortable.
“You here for take-out?” I asked, jerking my chin at the counter.
“Mama wanted biscuits, but she’s too busy today to make any. Plus, if I’m being honest,” she leaned forward conspiratorially, “Mama’s don’t hold a candle to Bettie’s.”
A small laugh rumbled in my chest. “Nobody’s do.”
“How about you? What are you up to?”
I nodded toward the jukebox. “Sophie and I needed a break from Fortnight.”
“Fortnight, huh?”
“It was a special request,” I noted. “For the record, I’m terrible at it. She needs no help from me—she whooped my ass. But we’re working in the wood shop when we get home, which is good. Gotta reclaim my place over my eight-year-old niece. You know. Like a man.”
She chuckled. “She really puts you all to the test, doesn’t she?”
“Only every day.”
Shoes slapped the checkered floor as Sophie came running over, a big fat smile on her face. “Daisy!”
“Hey, Sophie,” she said, looking like a goddamn angel. “What’d you pick?”
Sophie looked up at the ceiling and counted them off on her fingers. “‘Don’t Be Cruel,’ ‘Walking After Midnight,’ ‘Sh-boom,’ and ‘Purple People Eater.’”
“Good choices,” Daisy said, scooting in so Sophie could sit. The kid looked happier than a pig in shit, her gaze bouncing between me and Daisy.
“How was your date with Uncle Keaton?”
Thankfully, Daisy was a good sport. “He told you about that, did he?”
“Oh, sure,” she said as if it was an everyday old thing.
“And what all did he say?”
“That my dad is a punk and that y’all are just friends.”
“Both of those things are true,” Daisy said.
“But you were on a date. Daddy said it was very romantic.”
“Well, your daddy would know. He tricked us into it.”
“I told Uncle Keaton he should ask you to be his girlfriend.”
Daisy didn’t look at me, but her cheeks flushed again. “And what did he say?”
“Just told me again you were friends. It’s so boring.”
Daisy laughed, and I scowled at my niece.
“Old people and kids can say whatever they want, and everybody just laughs. Must be nice,” I noted.
Sophie shrugged.
Mercifully, Daisy changed the subject. “Keaton said you’re working on building something when you get home.”
She nodded. “We’re building bird houses—lame. He won’t even let me use the table saw.”
“Shame on him,” Daisy said, chuckling. “You know, I like to draw things to build, but I don’t know how.”
Sophie brightened up. “Uncle Keaton can teach you. He’s real good at it and he teaches me all the time. Do you have any pictures?”
“Sure.” She pulled her phone out of her pocket and swiped around before offering it to Sophie, who took one look at it and handed it directly to me. “Look. Can you help her build these?”
Daisy’s cheeks were smudged with color, and we shared a look. But I took the phone, flipping through sketches she’d made of all kinds of things, complete with measurements. She’d sketched some rooms with design ideas, even had a few floor plans.
“Why didn’t you show me these the other night?”
She shrugged, the flush in her cheeks deepening. “Oh, I dunno. We were talking about other stuff.”
“What’s this one?” I asked, flipping it around to show her.
“Oh, swipe one more. It’s a planter box and a bench with storage in it.”
“This would be easy to make.”
“You should show her, Uncle Keaton,” Sophie offered helpfully.
I didn’t think Daisy could blush deeper, but she proved me wrong. “I’d like that.”
Sophie practically panted with excitement. “You should come back with us after breakfast.”
Daisy and I spoke at the same time, listing reasons today would never work out as I handed Daisy her phone back. It might as well have been on fire.
“Speaking of,” Daisy started, looking in the direction of Aggie who held up her bag, “I should get these biscuits home. I’d hate for my family to starve waiting on me.”
Pouting, Sophie slid out of the booth so Daisy could pass, then back in.
“Good to see you, Sophie,” she said before turning to me. “You too, Keaton.”
My tongue was fat in my mouth, so I nodded rather than try to recall any of the words I knew. With a small wave, Daisy walked away and gathered up her food, saying goodbye once again as she passed to open the door. I watched her the whole way, laying a look on Sophie when Daisy was gone.
“Judas.”
She stuck her tongue out as Bettie approached with coffee and a malt.
“You too, Bettie.”
“Who, me?” she asked, feigning innocence. But then she winked at Sophie and stuck her hand out behind her back for a low five.
There was nothing to do but shake my head and take a sip of my coffee, hating their intrusion and welcoming it all the same. I didn’t want to want her as desperately as I’d started to realize I did.
As much as I wanted to take Bettie’s advice, knowing the truth of it in my bones, I didn’t know how to move on. I wondered if I’d ever learn.
And if Daisy would still be around if I did.