Page 111 of Save the Date
Cara felt exhausted just reading Evangeline’s email. She deleted it, and the next three responses, too. But the next response? Hmm.
Good afternoon. I have been a stay-at-home mom for the past seven years, but prior to that I worked as an in-house floral designer at Publix in Atlanta. I have basic computer skills, but am willing to learn any programs you need. I have a valid driver’s license, and although my work references are a little out of date, I can offer character references from my neighbors and my pastor. I hope to hear from you soon. Best wishes, Ginny Best.
Cara typed as fast as she could.
Hi Ginny. Would love to meet you for interview. Can you be here tomorrow morning at 9 a.m.?She added the shop’s address and phone number.
45
Jack and Ryan Finnerty sat on the tailgate of Jack’s truck, finishing off their lunch of convenience-store heat-’n’-eat burritos and iced tea. Jack kicked the dust from his work boots and loudly crunched the ice from his cup.
“Hey, bro, what’s with you?” Ryan asked, balling up the paper burrito wrapper and tossing it into the back of the truck along with the rest of the day’s trash.
“Nothin’. Why?”
“You’re all, like, happy and stuff. Right now, you’re sitting there with this shit-eating grin on your face. And I know it’s not because of the excellent cuisine we just consumed.”
“Probably just gas,” Jack said, thumping his chest with his fist and summoning up a belch on command, a talent he’d possessed since kindergarten.
Ryan matched his belch.
“Mom would be so proud,” Jack said.
“So, back to why you’re in such a great mood lately. Like the best mood you’ve been in since, like, a long time.”
“Since Zoey left you mean?”
“Well, yeah. You heard from her?”
“Nope.”
“You seeing somebody new?” Ryan studied his brother with deepening suspicion. “Wait a minute. I know that look. You’re not just seeing somebody. You’re sleeping with somebody.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jack said, tossing his burrito wrapper at the trash heap.
“Sure you do. You were moping around, moody and grouchy as hell, for weeks after Zoey took off. All during the wedding, you were a total sad bastard. But now, this past couple weeks, you’re Mister Happy Face. Mister Happy Face who’s getting laid on a regular basis. Even Torie’s noticed you were acting different.”
Jack hopped down off the tailgate. “Enough chitchat. Let’s go finish sanding that floor so we can get the first layer of stain put down before we knock off tonight. I told Libba we’d put down the first coat of poly tomorrow morning. The wedding’s less than three weeks away.”
“I’ll get back to work as soon as you tell me who the lucky lady is that you’re getting lucky with.” Ryan leaned back on his elbows and watched his older brother rebuckling his tool belt. “Is it somebody I know?”
Jack tried to look indignant. “I would never kiss and tell.”
“Sure you would. Come on, gimme something here. Some vicarious enjoyment.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? You’re the one who’s still on his honeymoon.”
“Tell that to my bride. When Torie’s not barfing up her breakfast she’s locked herself in the bedroom crying about how fat her ass is getting.”
“Morning sickness? How long is that supposed to go on?”
“According to the stack of books on her bedside table, it’s usually for the first trimester. But we’re heading into week thirteen right now, and I don’t mind telling you, it’s been a long dry spell, if you know what I mean.”
Jack nodded sympathetically. “I feel for you.”
“Just gimme some details. It somehow makes my situation more bearable if I at least know my big brother is getting some.”
“Anybody ever tell you you’re a pig?”
