The Valentine Grinch (8 page)

“Stay close. I don’t want you to fall.”

Silence drifted between them. They inched over the
ice together, with him solid and steady beside her, until they
reached dry cement again. And still he kept hold of her. She peered
up at his serious profile. “I’m sorry about this morning. I didn’t
mean to make you uncomfortable.”

His gaze slid toward her, and she saw a moment of
heat in his eyes before he blinked it away. “You didn’t. You — uh —
surprised me, that’s all. I didn’t expect it, not after all these
years.”

“Have I ever told you that you remind me of my
Dad?”

He winced. “Way to stroke a guy’s ego.”

“It’s a good thing, really,” she reassured him.
“He’s patient and understanding and usually lets Mom have her
way.”

“You mean, he spoils her.” He faced forward again.
“Is that what you want? A man who spoils you?”

“Good heavens no. But the patience and understanding
is...” She stared at his profile, unable to put her feelings into
words, and when he finally turned to look at her again, his gaze
dropped to her mouth.

“Seductive,” he finished for her, as though he could
read her mind. With a clench of his jaw, he faced forward
again.

Her heart thudded once, twice, and expanded in her
chest.

Beside her, Dane fell silent and she wondered if her
sister had been right. Had he had a crush on her all those years
ago? Had she been too blind to see what was right in front of
her?

They hit another icy patch on the sidewalk and his
hold on her hand tightened. “Hang on so you don’t fall.”

“Thanks.” She smiled up at him. Yes, friends
forever. But could she control her desire and just be his friend
when she wanted so much more? “So what have you been up to since
this morning?”

“Grandpa wanted to make sure his clothes were ready
for tomorrow. How about you?”

“Grandma spent the afternoon fussing with everything
in her closet except her wedding dress. I can’t believe how nervous
she is.” The sole of her boot slipped against the ice and as Dane
grabbed her by the arm to steady her, they ended up face to
face.

She caught her breath.

Just like when she’d set eyes on him yesterday
morning, he looked tall and broad and strong.

There were times over the years when she had cursed
him, and times when she had loved him, but through it all their
friendship had remained. No matter what happened after today, she
knew he’d always be her friend.

Her heart skipped a beat, only to do double time in
her chest. She focused on keeping the moment light. “Just can’t
keep your hands off me, can you?”

He looked down at her, his brows drawn together in a
frown. “If making love to you means I’ll lose your friendship, then
I’d just as soon keep my hands to myself.”

With a shrug and a smile, she turned back to the
sidewalk and pretended her heart wasn’t breaking into a million
pieces. “We kissed. It was nice, but that’s the end of it.”

Thankfully, it took most of their concentration to
maneuver over the ice, and they walked the remainder of the
distance in silence. Once they reached the restaurant, Dane took
her coat and went to hang it up.

Grandpa appeared beside her, his face almost red
with his glower. “Now she’s just rubbing Morty in my nose.”

Amanda followed his gaze to where Grandma and Morty
were seated, the urn set on the middle of the table like a
centerpiece.

“She doesn’t even know you’re here,” she whispered
as she headed across the restaurant toward the elderly couple.

“She’s making a fool of herself over that bastard
Morty.”

“Quit calling him a bastard,” she hissed. “He had a
mother and father, just like you.”

He turned his glower on her. “Are you switching
sides, bumpkin?”

“I’m not on anyone’s side, but isn’t it time you let
go? Grandma is trying to move on. You should, too.”

As Dane caught up to her, Grandpa poofed out, then
reappeared on the chair beside her grandma.

“I don’t see your parents here yet.”

Amanda focused on ignoring the deep rumble of Dane’s
voice in her ear and the way her insides reacted with pleasure.
“Guess I should’ve checked the garage after all. They better not be
using Mom’s car and messing up the decorations.”

He laughed, which relieved some of the tension
inside of her, and he took her elbow to guide her the rest of the
way to the table. Amanda stopped beside her Grandma, leaned forward
to wrap her arms around the older woman’s narrow shoulders, and
kissed her on the cheek. “Steph phoned and said hi. Asked me to
give you a kiss and a hug.”

“Where is your sister? Why isn’t she here yet?”

“She promised she’d be here in time for the
wedding.”

The restaurant door flew open,
letting in a blast of cold air. Amanda sat down on a chair across
from her grandma and watched as her parents rushed in. Her mom’s
cheeks were flushed from the cold, her eyes bright, her coat
buttoned up crooked.

Dane nudged her in the back and whispered in her
ear, “One guess as to where your parents have been.”

Amanda slid a glance toward Dane and saw the
laughter in his eyes. “If you want to talk about their sex life,
I’m leaving.”

Her mom hurried toward the table. “I’m so sorry
we’re late.”

“We had a flat tire,” her dad explained.

Dane pushed to his feet and went to hold out the
chair beside Grandma. “Here, Mrs. G. Sit down and catch your
breath.”

She stopped beside him and reached up to pat him on
the cheek. “You’re going to make some lucky mother a wonderful
son-in-law. Too bad it won’t be me.”

And with that, she gave Amanda a disappointed look,
then sat down, pulled the scarf off her head, and gave Grandma a
peck on the cheek. It was clear by the flat hair on the back of her
head that she’d been laying on her back since the rehearsal.

Dane returned to the chair beside Amanda, sat down
and nudged her on the back again. “Did you hear that?”

“How could I miss it?” While her parents fussed with
their coats and scarves, Amanda turned Dane’s attention toward the
engaged couple. “Something’s not right.”

He leaned closer, his shoulder touching hers. “How
can you tell?”

The elderly couple looked stiff and unnatural.
Amanda placed her forearms on the table and addressed them. “Is
everything okay?”

Her grandma folded her arms across her chest and
grunted.

Morty pointed at the urn on the table. “I insisted
Elvira leave that thing at home tomorrow, but she refuses.”

Grandma sent him a look she only used when she was
mad.

Dora leaned forward. “Elvira, surely you don’t want
Dad at your wedding.”

“For fifty-one years, he was my husband.”

Morty tossed a crumpled wad of tissue at the urn.
“He’s dead. You should get over it.”

Amanda exchanged a concerned look with Dane.

Her dad took the seat next to her mom. “Ma, what’s
this about?”

“My rights as a widow. I want George at the
wedding.”

Grandpa popped up in the middle of the table, his
head and shoulders sticking out above the urn. “That’s right,
Elvira. You tell Morty how it’s going to be. Don’t you let him
stomp all over you.”

Morty grimaced and rubbed his shoulder. “What about
my rights as the groom? I refuse to live out the rest of my life in
the shadow of George’s memory.”

Silence swelled around the occupants of the table.
Amanda studied Grandma’s stony expression, Morty’s annoyance. When
she’d arrived yesterday morning, her grandma had been radiant, in
love, ready to marry the man who’d been in and out of her life
since they were children.

Now, because Gramps couldn’t let go, her grandma
might be alone and lonely for the rest of her days.

She sat forward and reached for the urn. Her dad
tapped her on the arm, halting her mid-reach.

“Don’t touch that urn, young lady. Your grandma has
rights and Morty should respect them.”

Her mom snorted and shifted her chair away from her
husband. “Don’t you dare listen to your father. As a matter of
fact, Tom, you can sleep on the couch tonight. Morty has a point.
Elvira needs to let go. There shouldn’t be three people in a
marriage.”

Grandma pushed to her feet, hands
fisted at her sides, and faced her fiancée. “You’ve never
understood me, Morty Weatherby, not like my George. The wedding is
off. If I never set eyes on you again, I’ll be the happiest woman
alive.”

Grandpa George cackled with delight. “Fricking
Morty. Your mother was a whore and your father was a bastard.”

Amanda shot to her feet and grabbed the urn before
her grandma could get hold of it, which thankfully made her
gloating grandpa disappear. Setting it down on the table in front
of her, she kept one hand firmly on top of the marble box so no one
could steal it back.

It was time for some tough love. If her parents’
wouldn’t do it, if everyone got mad at her, she could live with it.
But she couldn’t live with Grandma’s unhappiness.

“I’m sorry, Grandma, but Mr. Weatherby is right. He
shouldn’t have to feel like he’s in competition with a dead man.”
Knowing full well there were fireworks ahead, but relieved she
wouldn’t have to stare at the ghostly figure of her grandpa
anymore, she continued. “Mr. Weatherby loves you and you love him.
It’s time to let Grandpa go.”

As Grandma approached, her focus intent on the urn,
Grandpa stuck his head and shoulders through the middle of the
table, and gave Amanda a death stare. “Morty was so ugly, his
parents had to tie a pork chop around his neck so the dog would
play with him.”

Grandpa turned his attention on his nemesis. “Morty
has to take Viagra to get it up. Morty is so slow, he thinks he’s
first. Morty is so—”

Morty rubbed his arm again, a pained expression on
his face, and toppled onto the floor.

Chapter Seven

The ambulance arrived in record time and the
emergency personnel stabilized Morty before whisking him away.
Amanda grabbed the urn from the table and along with everyone else,
piled into her dad’s car for the short ride to the hospital.

In the waiting room, she tried to pass the urn to
her grandma, but Elvira pushed it away and plopped down on a chair.
Surprised, Amanda stood back and clasped the urn to her chest.

Grandpa George appeared beside her. “Bumpkin?”

She shook her head, and when he fell silent, she
turned her attention back to her grandma.

Gone was the radiant glow the elderly woman had worn
earlier. Now she looked old and frail and scared. “I don’t
understand. Morty just had a checkup. The old fool said his health
was better than the average fifty-year-old.”

Dora sank down on the chair beside her mother-in-law
and put one arm around her narrow shoulders. “He’ll be okay,
Elvira. Isn’t that right, Tom?”

Tom slid onto the chair on the other side and linked
hands with his wife around his mother’s shoulders. “Morty is
strong, Ma. Have faith.”

Dane crouched down in front of Elvira and took both
her hands in his. “Grandpa loves you and he won’t go without a
fight.”

Grandma cupped his face between her hands and her
tear-filled eyes gazed at him with earnest. “You’re right. Your
grandfather wouldn’t want me to give up hope. Would you do me a
favor, Dane?”

“Anything.”

“When he wakes up, I’d like his room to be filled
with red roses and heart shaped balloons. Could you arrange that
for me?”

“You bet.” He leaned forward and kissed the top of
each of her frail hands before he pushed to his feet and faced
Amanda. His mouth was set in a taut, unsmiling line and as he
passed her, he quietly said, “If there’s any news, come get
me.”

He pulled his cell out of his jacket pocket and
wandered to the window, where he spoke quietly into the phone.

Grandpa George floated up and down, an aggrieved
expression tugging at his face. “Tell her, bumpkin. Morty isn’t
coming to the other side, not yet.”

Elvira pressed her face into her hands and burst
into tears.

Grandpa gave Amanda a shove and she stumbled
forward, nearly dropping the urn. “He’s going to live, bumpkin.
Tell your grandma I said the wily old bastard is going to live many
more years to make her life — and mine — miserable.”

Over Grandma’s bowed head, Amanda’s mom and dad were
staring at each other, their gazes filled with a mixture of love
and regret. Without a single word uttered between them, they’d
forgiven each other for the little tiff in the restaurant.

“Tell her, bumpkin, about how you can see me. Tell
her I still love her. I’m so sorry I took her love for granted.”
Grandpa gave her another shove. She gasped and staggered forward
another few inches, drawing her grandma’s attention.

“Amanda, what’s wrong with you, girl?”

“Nothing, Grandma.”

Grandpa glided to her side and poked her in the
back. “While you’re at it, you should tell Morty’s grandson how you
feel about him.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t.”

“Don’t be afraid to use the L word. People need to
know when they’re loved.”

Her grandma’s sharp voice filled the room. “Who are
you talking to, girl?”

Amanda handed her dad the urn, knelt down in front
of Grandma, and took her hands. “Grandpa’s here.”

Grandma wrenched her hands away. “Don’t talk
nonsense.”

“Remember how you’ve been smelling Grandpa’s
aftershave lately?” At her grandma’s nod, Amanda recaptured her
hands. Tears stung her eyes. “He’s here and he wants me to tell you
Morty is going to be fine.”

Grandma gave a sob and clung harder to Amanda’s
hands.

“He says he still loves you and he’s sorry for
taking your love for granted.”

“But how can you—” Elvira peered past Amanda,
searching the room with her gaze.