Like a Memory Page 12

“My grandfather does,” I replied. Not that grandpop ever stayed here. He was always at the bar. I’d told him I would come by this afternoon and eat Sunday lunch with him. It was the only day of the week that he spent his afternoon at home. The bar was closed until six in the evening on Sundays. It was kind of his day off.

“Great,” Eli muttered, bending down to collect the books. I could’ve kept walking and left it at that, but I wanted more information. About what? Bliss, that’s what. I wasn’t going to act on my feelings. But I wasn’t strong enough to stay away either. What I didn’t know about her past was a gap I had to close.

In the end the more I knew would only cause pain when she left. I was asking for it. Normally I ignored the dramatic. This time I apparently invited it. My desire to know Bliss was now winning out over my own self-preservation.

“Pride and Prejudice, Wuthering Heights, Jane Eyre . . . interesting reading choices.” I was being an ass. These were Bliss’s books. She loved to read and Pride and Prejudice I knew was her all time favorite. I hoped the fucker hadn’t scratched them up being a clumsy son of a bitch.

“Can’t beat a good romance,” he replied with a sarcastic drawl. He wasn’t going to admit they were Bliss’s. Why? Because he didn’t know that I was aware they lived together as friends? He was protecting her from me. Smart man.

“Can’t say I prefer that genre, but to each his own.”

Eli then jammed Sense and Sensibility into the box with unnecessary force before standing up and glaring at me. “Not everyone knows a good thing when it slaps them in the face.”

He started to walk off and I should have let him, no point in digging any deeper. He didn’t like me. Probably hated me. Was Bliss talking badly about me? If so, then that sucked ass. Because other than “forgetting” her I was being nice. I thought she enjoyed her time with me yesterday at my grandpop’s.

“How long has she been cancer free?” The words came out before I could stop them.

He froze. We stood there like that for what seemed to be longer than it actually was. My head was pounding with the realization I’d just admitted I knew her. Had known her. Shit. He was gonna tell her. I’d have to face the past now.

When he finally turned around to face me there was hardness in his expression. Eli seemed easy going. Kind and gentle, the sort she belonged with. He was the guy that believed in fairytales and could probably make them come true.

“You know,” was all he said.

I nodded.

“Fuck you,” was the response I deserved. He then walked off towards the stairs.

I stood there and waited just in case he decided to come back for answers. After five minutes I knew he wasn’t returning so I walked to grandpop’s condo. It was on the bottom floor.

Eli would immediately tell her. She’d know when I saw her at work. My pretending would be over and we would have to deal with it. A large portion of me was relieved.

But there was a small part of me that was terrified. Of what we would say and how things would be with us now. How strong was I? I’d soon find out.

I knocked once and the door to my grandfather’s condo swung open and hit the wall. The smell of gumbo met my nose. My grandfather stood there with a black apron on that said “KISS THE COOK” in white lettering. There were tiny white handprints on it that belonged to a much younger me. My sisters handprints were on there also. My mother had us make it for him fifteen Christmases ago.

“About time you got here. I was getting close to eating this without you. There’s beers in the fridge.” He then returned to his kitchen.

I closed the door behind me. My thoughts drifted to the way it looked. Was Bliss’s place like this one? Was her bedroom to the left of the living room like grandpop’s guest room was? Or had Eli given her the master? Or were they sleeping together in his bed?

Fuck that train of thought. It didn’t sit well at all. I headed for the fridge for the first of what would more than likely be too many beers.

Bliss York

ALL AFTERNOON ELI had acted weird. Like he was nervous or anxious or jumpy. By the time we needed to leave for Jilly’s third birthday party he’d barely said five words. We had to go to his grandparent’s house. I wasn’t looking forward to the trip. I wanted to ask him what was wrong. But asking would make us late and he didn’t need to be late.

Jilly was Eli’s cousin. Jilly was the youngest in their group. It was fun having a little one around. Once I thought they’d never stop coming. Then as time went on we all grew up and our parents stopped reproducing.

Larissa’s pregnancy had been exciting even after the father ran off. We all supported and assisted, came together as a group and the child was well loved in his absence.

“What did you get her?” I asked. I was trying to make him talk, although I doubted I would be successful.

“Spiderman water gun.”

That sounded odd for a three-year old girl. But not for Jilly, she would love it. She was a huge Spiderman fan. The birthday party invitations were Spiderman themed and I expected the party would be.

“You?” he asked.

“An art set.”

“She’ll love that.”

“I thought so too when I bought it last week.”

We headed for the door with our presents in hand. I decided to ask him what was wrong. I’d make sure we weren’t late. But I couldn’t go all evening without knowing why Eli was upset. Something was bothering him.

“Spill,” I demanded, placing my hand on the door, to keep him from walking outside.

He tried to frown in confusion, arching his brows, like he didn’t know what I meant. He failed but tried anyway. “What? Spill what? I’m confused.”

I rolled my eyes. He sucked at this. “You know what. You’re upset about something or there’s a contract on your life by a drug cartel or the mob. I seriously doubt it’s the last one. You don’t even take painkillers. I wouldn’t think you’re into the blow.”

He sighed and looked at me. His expression said “I don’t want to tell” but he would or I’d become angry.

“Nate’s grandfather lives in the building.”

That was it? He was upset over that? Eli could be as dramatic as a female at times, so I responded “and . . . uh . . . so what?”

He shrugged. “I just don’t want you running into him more often than you should.”

There he was, worrying again. Like he always had and would. “Eli, I told you, I’m a big girl. Stop it with the hovering and concern. I am fine with Nate. I see him at work. I’m employed by his fiancé.”

Eli didn’t look convinced. Definitely not relieved. I opened the door before I lost my temper and fussed at him some more. He was way too overprotective. It was a waste of my breath I decided.

We stepped out of the condo and headed for the stairs. I wanted to say more, but I kept my mouth shut, because changing the subject was better. “Did you bring a swimsuit?” I asked him. Mine was under my sundress. Eli’s grandparents had a beautiful pool on the beach and this was a swimming party.

He nodded. “Yeah.”

He was still being moody. Seriously?

“Eli, what is your deal? I should be the one acting pissy. You’re just being ridiculous.”

We’d just gotten to the bottom of the stairs when Nate came into view. He was walking toward the parking lot. I paused and his gaze found us both. He went from Eli to me then stopped. Like he was waiting on something to happen.

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