WG2E All-For-Indies Anthologies: Viva La Valentine Edition (26 page)

Tacky, but cute. The tart cinnamon scent of
the air freshener filled Amanda’s nostrils and she inhaled deeply.
If she was lucky, the chemicals in the scent would fry out the part
of her brain that retained short term memories. “Thanks,
Grandma.”

With one gloved hand, Grandma stroked the
smooth top of the urn. “Look how flushed you are. You should get
more exercise, like your mom and dad. Every afternoon, they leave
the house. Your mom says they go for a nice long walk around
town.”

“Right. That’s probably where they are now.”
Amanda ground her teeth together, pretty sure she was never getting
the image of her dad’s naked butt out of her head.

“We’re using your mom’s car for the wedding,”
Grandma continued, and Amanda decided right then and there that she
was walking down the street to the community hall. “I’ve made
arrangements with Morty and Dane to decorate the car tomorrow
morning. You can help them.”

“Sure.” As long as she didn’t have to get
inside
the car.

At the end of the street, Amanda steered left
and drove the short distance to the outskirts of town, where the
cemetery resided next to the Lutheran church.

“Morty wants to be buried beside me.”

“He does?” Amanda shot a glance at her
grandma to see if she was serious. “But what about his first
wife?”

And his second and third, she wanted to add.
Hadn’t Gramps said the other man had been married three times?

“She’s buried back east, but the family is
all here now. Besides, Morty claims I was his first love.” Grandma
smiled, a faraway look in her eyes. “He’s so sweet. Always sending
me flowers and writing me love notes.”

“Fricking Morty,” Grandpa George moaned from
the back seat, startling Amanda once again. She glanced in the rear
view mirror and saw his glower. “I knew it. The moment I laid eyes
on the bastard, I knew he was going to cause me nothing but
grief.”

Amanda gulped back a moan of her own and
gripped the steering wheel tighter. Feeling desperate, she asked,
“But you loved Grandpa, didn’t you?”

Grandma smiled sadly and stroked a hand
across the top of the urn. “Of course, but he’s gone now and I’m
lonely.”

“Fricking bastard, fricking bastard, fricking
bastard.” Grandpa kicked at the backseat and his foot came through
the console beside Amanda. She jumped, but fortunately Grandma was
humming a tune and staring out the side window.

By the time they reached the cemetery,
Grandpa had worked himself into an angry knot of frustration, and
Amanda felt heartsick. Without her sunglasses, she squinted against
the brightness of the sun as it reflected off the snow and looked
for Dane’s truck.

Grandma pulled an envelope out of her purse.
“While we’re waiting for them, will you please read this to
me?”

Amanda pulled a tissue thin piece of paper
out of the envelope and carefully opened it up. It was covered with
hand drawn images of smooching lips and Valentine hearts. The
penmanship was exquisite. “Be My Valentine.”

Grandma released a blissful sigh. “How
romantic. Morty sure knows how to treat a woman.”

“Flowers and love notes?” Grandpa roared from
the back seat. “She said those things weren’t important. How could
she have lied to me all these years?”

Across the parking lot, a midnight blue half
ton pulled into an empty parking space. Dane climbed out of the
driver’s side and walked around to the passenger side to assist
Morty out of the cab. He looked tall and strong, and Amanda
recalled the way he smelled as he’d wrapped his arms around her.
The memory set off a spark of desire deep within her body.

In direct contrast, Morty appeared frail, his
shoulders hunched, a cane in his hand to steady his balance.

“Isn’t he handsome?” her grandma swooned like
a sixteen year old groupie.

In the backseat, Grandpa George snorted.
“Morty’s a wimp. A wussy. A girlie-man.”

Grandma pulled on the door handle. “Come
along, dear. We don’t want to keep our men waiting.”

Our men? She shook her head. Dane didn’t
belong to her. They’d never had that kind of relationship. “I’ll be
right there, Grandma.”

While Grandma climbed out of the vehicle to
scurry across the parking lot to meet her fiancée and Dane, Amanda
turned toward the back seat and leaned against the car door. “Are
you okay, Grandpa?”

“She said she loved me. She promised never to
love another.” He kicked at the backseat, his foot once again
coming through the console, but this time Amanda was ready for it
and barely jumped at all.

She reached out to pat his arm, but her hand
went through him, so she dropped her hand on her lap. “The
love-you-forever vows ended when you died.”

“Elvira, my honey, my dear darling wife,”
Grandpa George moaned, the shadows of his face elongated by the
depths of his sorrow. “You have to stop her, bumpkin. She’s insane
with grief. She’d have to be insane to marry that bastard
Morty.”

Amanda thought of the silly love note that
had made her grandma smile like a young woman in love. And along
with that thought, she recalled the fact that Morty had three
wives, two of which Grandma didn’t seem to know about. “Fine. I’m
in. What do you want me to do?”

“Tell her I’m still here. Tell her I still
love her.”

“She’ll think I’m insane.”

“God damn it, Amanda. Tell her I forbid her
to marry that old fool Morty.” He dropped his head into the curve
of his open hands and mumbled, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to shout at
you like that. I’d like to be alone for a while, if you don’t
mind.”

“It’ll be okay, Gramps.” She hooked a thumb
over her shoulder. “I’ll just be over there, if you come up with a
better plan.”

The door behind her swung open and she
would’ve fallen backward into the snow if Dane hadn’t been there to
catch her under the arms. Startled, she stared up at him and he
stared back at her, and for just a moment, she thought she saw
something more in his gaze, something that warmed her body and made
her think of the wow factor.

Oh, and hot sweaty sex. With him.Preferably
not in the backseat of her mom’s car.

She blinked away the sensation of his touch.
“Hey there.”

He blinked back. “Your grandma sent me to see
if you were getting out of the car.”

“I’m half there.” She smiled up at him. “You
look weird upside down.”

“So do you. It makes your nose look big and
your chin crooked. Kind of grinchly.”

“Thanks. I appreciate your honesty.”

“No problem. What are best friends for?” He
pulled her the rest of the way out of the car and stood her on her
feet.

Amanda glanced back in the car, saw her
grandpa still brooding, and softly closed the door behind her. She
looked past Dane, where Grandma and Morty were stomping through the
snow toward a distant area. “Well, I guess we should join
them.”

Dane stuffed his hands into the pockets of
his jacket and fell into step beside her. “So what do you really
think about your grandma marrying my grandpa?”

She shot a glance his way, noting that he’d
matched his long stride to her shorter one. “It seems like it
happened awfully quick.”

He shrugged, his broad shoulders shifting
beneath the jacket, sending something wickedly smooth to Amanda’s
stomach. “At their age, I guess they don’t have a lot of time to
waste with all the usual dating rituals.”

“You mean flowers and love notes? Like Be My
Valentine?”

He quirked one brow at her. “Your mom is
hoping Elvira’s wedding will give you some ideas.”

Amanda almost choked. Beneath her jacket, she
started to sweat. “She told you that?”

“Another wedding, bumpkin?”

Amanda jerked back, surprised by Grandpa’s
appearance, horrified by Dane’s revelation. “No.”

Dane stopped and faced her, a disappointed
expression on his face. “Right. You’re not the type of woman who’s
going to appreciate the significance of a man getting down on one
knee to propose. You’re so unromantic, Mandy.”

“And all the commercialism surrounding the
holiday is romantic?” she scoffed. “What’s so romantic about
flowers that last less than a week? Or a ring that costs more than
a small car?”

She marched forward, aware of both Dane and
Grandpa following, toward Grandma and Morty who were standing
shoulder to shoulder.

Grandpa roared, “Why is Morty holding my
urn?”

Amanda reached the older couple and sure
enough, Grandma had handed Morty the urn. She stepped forward.
“Hello, Mr. Weatherby. How are you? Here, let me hold that for
you.”

And before anyone could object, she slipped
the urn from his arms into her own.

It weighed a ton.

As she shifted it in her arms, she glanced at
her Grandpa and hoped he was satisfied. At least he was no longer
glowering at Morty, so she turned back to the elderly couple. “Have
you found anything?”

“I like this area.” Morty stomped on the snow
beneath his feet. “What do you think, Elvira?”

Grandma walked around the plot. “Look at the
drainage. George always said he didn’t want to get his feet
wet.”

Dane took the urn out of Amanda’s hands and
she was grateful. How did her grandma carry it around all of the
time?

Behind her, she heard her grandpa’s shout of
outrage, but as far as she was concerned, Dane wasn’t the
competition so he could have the urn. She quickened her steps to
keep up to her grandma. “It’s higher ground over here.”

Grandma hooked her arms through Amanda’s. “I
want it to face east because your grandpa was an early riser. He
always enjoyed watching the sun rise in the morning.”

“Okay.” Amanda glanced over at Dane, who was
helping Morty through the snow.

Grandma let go of her arm to bend down and
look at a headstone. “And I’d like him to know his neighbors.”

“See, bumpkin, she still loves me.” Grandpa
bent down beside Grandma. “Who’s this, Elvira? Someone we
know?”

Grandma jerked upright, and with a confused
frown on her face, turned toward Morty and Dane. “Did one of you
change your aftershave?”

First Dane shook his head, followed by his
grandfather. Morty stepped forward, right through Grandpa George
who disappeared in a poof, and took Elvira’s hands. “What is it, my
dear? You look distressed.”

“It’s…I….” She leaned toward Morty, sniffed
around his neck, and shook her head. “Never mind. I’m being silly.
I thought I could smell George’s aftershave.”

Grandpa popped up beside Amanda. “How is that
possible, bumpkin?”

Morty patted Elvira’s hands and gave her a
peck on the cheek. “Maybe there’s still some on his urn. Once you
put his ashes to rest, my sweet, you’ll feel much better.”

“What if I don’t?” Grandma turned her back on
her fiancée, took the urn out of Dane’s arms, and gestured toward
another part of the cemetery. “How about over there, George?”

Distracted, Grandpa George followed her,
muttering, “Humph, first words she’s said to me since she started
to date that bastard Morty.”

Amanda met Dane’s gaze. He smiled at her, a
friend’s smile, a familiar smile, the kind of smile that made her
feel warm and fuzzy inside and hinted at the length of time they’d
known each other. Since grade school or earlier. Hadn’t her mom
once said they’d played together in the crib?

It was a long time to be friends and she
wondered why he’d never found her attractive enough to make a move
on her.

She cocked her head to the side and looked up
at him. “She’s not giving up the urn, you know.”

“Morty understands what your grandma needs.”
He took her by the elbow and urged her after the older couple. “And
that, your grinchness, is what true love is all about.”

Four

True love.

Amanda didn’t think she’d recognize it if it
hit her square between the eyes. Of course, there was always her
parents’ relationship to consider.

At the moment, she would have preferred to
avoid them, at least until the memory of her dad’s butt faded, but
when she returned home from the cemetery with Grandma, she
encountered her mom in the kitchen.

Dora grabbed an empty wine glass, filled it
to the top, and refused to meet her eyes. “I’m sorry about what you
saw.”

“Forget about it, Mom.”

“We should at least talk. It’s natural for
two people to —”

“Seriously, Mom. We had this talk when I was
thirteen, remember?” She gestured toward the stove. “Is there
something I can help with?”

Her mom raised the glass to her lips, and
chugged half of it down before wiping the back of her wrist across
her mouth. “Your dad is embarrassed.”

Not nearly enough, she was sure. “Next time,
since I can safely assume there’ll be a next time, perhaps you
should hang a sock on the door. Or a sign. Your Parents Are Making
Whoopee. That’ll keep me out.”

With a nod of agreement, her mom proceeded to
chug the rest of her wine. As she set the glass on the counter,
Amanda noticed the amount of food cooking on the stove and in the
oven. “This isn’t all for me, is it?”

“Dane and Morty are coming for supper.”
Tottering on her tiptoes, her mom reached into the highest cupboard
for a bowl. “Just because they’re almost family doesn’t mean you
shouldn’t dress up a little.”

Amanda wondered what Dane would think if she
showed up for supper in a slinky, low cut dress. Would his eyes
light with appreciation? Or would he laugh at her attempt to be
sexy? She shoved the thought away as she glanced down at her jeans
and t-shirt. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

Her mom handed her the bowl and pointed to
the potatoes on the stove. “It never hurts to look attractive.”

The doorbell rang, and Amanda heard her dad
and grandma’s voices greet the new arrivals. She leaned forward so
she could peer out the kitchen opening and down the hallway toward
the front door. Dane’s tall frame dwarfed his grandpa, and
something in her stomach tumbled and stumbled. “Was Dad your first
love?”