Page 38 of Fly's Path

“So then Tripod stole the entire brisket off the smoker. We still don’t know how he was able to do it without getting burned. After he was done with his dinner, he went back and asked for some strawberry shortcake for dessert.” I lean back on the plush dining room chair in Gabe’s suite, which is more like a large apartment with a lot more grab bars and wide doors for hospital beds and wheelchairs. This single room is larger than the entire shack I was living in. The table we’re sitting at is probably bigger than my car.

“Did they give it to him?” Deacon sets his fork and knife down.

Both men, it seems, really enjoy steaks, though the real star of the meal was the pastina. “Of course they did. Then they adopted him. But Tripod didn’t like the idea of sticking with one family. He needed options for dinner, which is how he became the town menace. Here, I have a picture of him on my phone.” I pull it up and hand it over to Gabe.

“That’s Tripod? No way.” He stares at it for a long second.

“Lemme see.” Deacon takes the phone and almost drops it. “No way. I thought for sure he was a big dog, like a German shepherd or a pittie. There’s no way this little ball of fluff got up on a smoker.”

“But he did. I told you Tripod is the menace of Beach Haven.”

Deacon’s face changes as he stares at my phone. Friendly smiles turn to something hard. “You got a message I think you’re going to want to see.”

Huh?

I take my phone from his outstretched hand.

Sheridan, I love you. Will you marry me?

“Not again,” I mutter to myself.

“What do you mean, not again?” Deacon snaps.

“What are you two talking about?” Gabe pauses with his fourth biscuit halfway to his mouth.

“Someone just proposed to Sheridan.”

“WHAT?” Viola’s spoon clatters into her bowl with a little splash. “I didn’t know you’re seeing someone.”

This would be the perfect excuse. “I’m not. This is just a stupid prank. Every so once in a while, some idiot finds my phone number and asks me stupid questions.” This is one of the dark sides to being an author. People tend to think it’s funny to harass you like a celebrity even though you aren’t one.

“That doesn’t sound like a prank,” Deacon says.

“It is. It’s nothing. I mark it as spam and block the number.” Which is exactly what I do before shoving my purse into my purse. “Anyone have room for dessert?”

Gabe looks like he wants to ask more, but he says, “I’d love some.”

Viola jumps up and rushes over to the island, taking her and Gabe’s plates. He snatched the unfinished biscuit before she could throw it out. I take my bowl and reach for Deacon’s plate slowly. Grammie used to hate me helping her early on.

Deacon just gives me a smile, which is a relief. So far, neither man has been the quintessential temperamental sick person.

Would I be as easygoing if I were in pain all the time? Probably not. I’m really grumpy when I don’t feel good.

Viola sets the platter of blondies down in the center of the table, and I put a dessert plate in front of everyone.

A napkin would have been just fine with me. But I bet there’s a cleaner who’s scheduled to come in and do the dishes.

“Sheridan made these just for you.” Viola pushes the plate towards her grandson.

Oh, the machinations are strong with this one. I’m going to have to be careful.

Very, very careful.

“How did you end up here when you live in Beach Haven?”

Should I share? Why not? “A friend got married, and now we’re all helping throw her a massive reception in Silent Valley.”

Deacon reaches for a blondie as Gabe passes the plate around. “Silent Valley? Who is your friend?”