Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
“You will be arrested,” Zippy sputtered.
Cormac glanced over, calm as ever. “So will you.”
Zippy tossed his head. “I was the victim.”
“That is not what I saw,” Cormac said smoothly.
I studied him. “What exactly did you see?”
He smiled at me. No dimple this time. “I saw this man make a move toward one of your grandmothers, and them defend themselves.”
Zippy reared up beside him. “That is a lie.”
Cormac did not so much as blink. “I always tell the truth, man.”
A fleck of flour drifted into my eye, stinging. Whatever spice Nana had been using was sharp enough to double as pepper spray. “How about we all forget this ever happened?” I tried for my most reasonable voice.
Nonna kicked her feet, sending another puff of flour into the air. “You deserved every whack, Zippy,” she muttered.
“All right,” Donna said, exasperated. “Somebody tell me what is going on.”
“I will tell you anything you want,” Cormac said easily.
Donna shot him a warning look.
He grinned, and this time a full dimple appeared. Interesting. Was that for Donna specifically?
I looked straight at Zippy. “Why don’t you tell me what this is all about? Because nobody else seems inclined to.”
He looked between my grandmothers, his ruined vest dark with sticky flour. “All right.”
“No,” they both sputtered at once.
“Yes.” He settled back and flattened his hands over his stomach. “When we were sixteen, there was a summer at Lilac Lake that shall never be forgotten.”
“I have forgotten it,” Nonna muttered.
Somehow, I doubted that.
He stared at me. “Basically, both of your grandmothers fell in love with me.”
“We did not,” Nana said flatly.
“He dated us both,” Nonna said. “We were only sixteen. Nothing exciting happened.”
Zippy preened. “You fell in love with me.”
“Ha,” Nana said. “Neither of us would ever love you.”
“So anyway,” Zippy continued, “I dumped them both for Gloria.”
I blinked. The words did not compute.
Cormac looked from him to us, then sighed and slid a little farther down the bench. Smart man.
“You dumped our grandmothers for Gloria Walton?” Donna asked, her voice tight.
A chill went down my spine. That tone was dangerous.
“Yes,” Zippy said. “They were furious at me. I did not mean to ruin their friendship.”
Donna turned to Nonna. “You two were friends?”
“The best of friends,” Nonna said softly, not looking up.
I stood, brushing flour off my jeans. The powder fell in ghostly drifts. “You are telling me you two were best friends, and when you were teenagers, you both dated the same guy, probably without realizing it, and then when he dumped you for Gloria Walton, you ended your friendship?”
Nana tilted her head. Nonna looked down.
“Over a guy named Zippy?” My voice hit an octave that made even Cormac flinch.
Nana chuckled. Nonna giggled. Then they looked at each other and burst into laughter so hard their shoulders shook.
Oh right. They were still drunk.
I sank back onto the bench. “I cannot believe this.”
“It was kind of stupid,” Nana agreed.
Nonna reached across me and patted her arm. “It really was, Fiona. But we have gotten along fine through the years, have we not?”
“Yes.” Nana nodded. “I have never understood what the big deal was. Our family is just overdramatic.”
Nonna threw her hands in the air. “So dramatic.”
“Really?” I asked, my voice dry.
“I would say we have been the best of friends since then, would you not?” Nonna said.
“I truly would,” Nana said warmly.
I looked at Donna. She looked back with an expression as bewildered as I felt. The cell suddenly seemed too small to hold all that absurd history, regret, and leftover laughter.
Cormac stared at us, a faint smirk at the corner of his mouth. “Well then, everything worked out, didn’t it?”
“Yes,” Nana said, smoothing her skirt. “Then Zippy dumped Gloria for—what was your wife’s name again?”
“Glenys,” he said, looking at them both. He didn’t seem to know whether to sound proud or defensive.
“Oh yeah. Glenys,” Nonna said. “She dumped your ass, didn’t she?”
I smacked my forehead. I had never heard either of my grandmothers swear like this in my life.
Zippy puffed himself up, though his shirt was still streaked with flour. “You two might be happily married, but your husbands aren’t going to like that you got in a fight over me.”
“A fight over you?” Nana chirped. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
“Yeah,” Nonna said. “We basted you.”
Nana leaned forward to see Nonna across me. “If we could toss him in an oven, we’d have fried chicken.”
“Fried rodent, you mean,” Nonna said.
“Good one,” Nana said, grinning. She held up a hand, and Nonna reached across me for a high-five. The motion sent a small flurry of leftover flour and spices drifting into my lap. The smell of paprika and grease hung thick in the air.
I glanced at Donna. She raised her eyebrows and gave a tiny shrug.
This was officially too much. I sighed and leaned back against the cold wall. The metal bars hummed faintly when someone down the hall slammed a door. “Hopefully nobody took pictures tonight,” I muttered.