Page 23 of Even After This
His backpedaling is almost audible, but I appreciate the effort to help move the conversation to an easier place.
My giggle breaks the solemn mood. “Spencer, I mean this in the nicest way possible. You are the worst liar on the entire earth.”
Yup. I just told a Golden Globe nominee that he was essentially not good at acting.
“I know.” Sally beams with pride. Patting her husband on the arm, she leans over and grabs a leftover scrap of garlic bread. “I married him because he can’t lie. He isn’t wired for it.” She angles back and plants a kiss on his cheek.
“Thank you? I think?” Spencer sports a smirk aimed at his wife. He shifts his gaze to me and lowers his voice. “I’m sorry, Meredith.”
“Why? Iamthe widow who crashed the private Hollywood dinner at the Penrose Room. I’m so proud of it, I may add it to my résumé.” I flash a smile. “So, Spencer, to answer your original question from half an hour ago, that’s how I met your friend.”
Harlan cranes his neck so he can speak into my ear. “I did dance with a babe that night.”
Unfortunately, he chooses to do this at the exact moment I take a sip of my water, thus causing me to choke.
While pounding me on the back, he twists to everyone else atthe table. “Listen, I think this whole thing is a diversion. You’re all avoiding the inevitable.”
My cough calms down enough for me to clear my throat of the last of it just as Harlan’s hand on my back slows to gentle circles.
After a pause to the group, he says proudly, “The Skee-Ball tournament.”
“We aren’t in town often,” Spencer explains to me, “but when we are, this is tradition.”
“I don’t want to play.” Sally displays her French manicure. “Going back to get my nails fixed is not worth the effort.”
“I think it’s because you don’t want to lose to me.” Harlan winks at Sally, only receiving an eye-roll response in return. “Layla forfeited due to the height requirement. But Spencer and Toby are in. So that leaves you, Meredith.”
“That leaves me what?”
Without removing his hand from my back, he angles his body toward mine. The warmth of his touch seeps through my skin just like the warmth in his smile.
But then his smile turns into a smirk, almost challenging. “Would you like the opportunity to lose, thus crowning me Skee-Ball Champion the sixth time in a row?”
Oh no he didnotjust challenge me.
My head turns to look at him dead-on, and I ignore how close we are. Because my competitive streak just swiped away all warmth coming from him and stomped right over my nerves. I cock my head just a touch. “It’s going to be so embarrassing for you when I take you down in front of all these people. You’re about to be a YouTube sensation for a completely different reason.”
5
I glanceat the speedometeron Prissy’s dashboard, and my blood pressure rises. “How come your car hasn’t rebuked you yet?”
This morning, we’re driving thirty minutes outside of town to look at a property. She asked me to wear jeans and keep an open mind.
I’m not sure this bodes well for me.
Prissy slides a triumphant glimpse in my direction. “I disabled the monitoring system. You can find how to do anything on YouTube.”
In spite of my giggle, I’m a little nervous. I glance at my white knuckles clutching the door handle. “How long before Derrick notices?”
“I feel sure when I immobilized it, the Bat-Signal alerted not just my husband but my insurance agent and the police departments in three surrounding counties.” Her black leather–gloved hand swirls in the air for dramatic effect.
My love-hatred of Prissy grows. No suit today. She sports a pair of age-defying jeans that imply gravity hasn’t taken a toll on her backside. She paired the dark wash with a thin red cashmeresweater. But the black-and-white woven wool poncho is what gives her the sass.
“Forty-two speeding tickets in twenty-five years of marriage,” she declares.
I laugh at the window as we pass open fields. “Prissy, no.”
“After yelling at each other about the first ten violations, we came to a truce. He installs every gadget on the market to help me stop breaking the law, but doesn’t react when I come home with a citation. In return, I choose to view his monitoring me as an act of love instead of a violation of my privacy.” She shrugs. “It works for us.”
