Shelf Awareness: Green Valley Library Book #4 Read online

  I laughed. “Unbelievable.” Although I teased him, it didn’t stop the flippity-flop my heart did at the sentiment. Grant wouldn’t have given two shits about offending GramBea when we were dating, least of all when we were married. Once again, I experienced the “What the hell was I thinking?” epiphany.

  Instead of arguing with him anymore, I rose from my chair and let Zeke lead me out of the room. When we got to the car, Zeke opened the door for me. I slid inside while he walked around the front of the car. Once he was inside, he cranked the car and turned to me. Rubbing his hands together, he asked, “So final verdict?”

  “Although it might be the strangest party I’ve ever been to—”

  “That’s a given,” Zeke interrupted.

  “I have to say I had the best time I’ve had in a long time.”

  Zeke’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “You’re not just shooting me a line, are you?”

  “I really mean it.” I held up one of my hands. “Scouts honor . . . or Girl Scouts Honor since I was one back in the day.”

  He grinned. “Oh, I believe you.”

  “Good.”

  “You know, I bet if we tried, we could totally make it a thing in Green Valley.”

  I laughed. “I’m not so sure about that.”

  “Come on. There have to be some closeted nerds in town with some of the gamers.”

  “True. I know Sabrina’s boyfriend’s brother is really into gaming.”

  “See there? Green Valley could totally become the cosplay capital of East Tennessee.”

  “Hmm, I’m not going to hold my breath.”

  “Oh, young grasshopper, have faith.”

  “Yes, sensei, I’ll try.”

  Most of all, I’ll try really hard to fight my growing feelings for you, I thought as we drove through the dark Tennessee night.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Although I initially and very vocally put my foot down about having a divorce party, the girls overrode me. Even Estelle shocked me when she was so adamant I celebrate the big D with a party. “Can’t we just go out and have a round of drinks?” I protested.

  While Dot clutched her pearls, GramBea sucked in a horrified breath. “Me be seen in public imbibing in alcohol? Why I would be kicked out of the Garden Club and asked to step down from my role at the church.”

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “Trust me. She’s serious. Why do you think I put up such a fight when they asked me to move back home?” Estelle replied.

  When I saw how unwavering they were, an idea popped into my mind. Wagging a finger at GramBea, I said, “I’ll make a deal with you.”

  She cocked her brows at me. “And what would that be?”

  “I’ll show up for this ridiculous divorce party on one condition.” I glanced between the three of them before looking straight at GramBea. “You invite Floyd.”

  GramBea’s hand flew to her mouth. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Oh, I’m pretty damn serious.”

  She narrowed her eyes at me. “Don’t worsen things by cursing.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “And don’t you try to change the subject.”

  Rising from her chair, she countered, “I cannot believe you would come up with such an absurd ultimatum.”

  When she started for the kitchen, I fell in right behind her with Dot and Estelle close on my heels. “Have you forgotten the talk we had about the two of you? If I fostered my growing feelings for Zeke, you would try to rekindle things with Floyd.”

  GramBea stiffened before whirling around to glare past me at Estelle. “I blame you for this. If you’d never told her about Floyd, we wouldn’t be having this discussion.”

  Estelle rolled her eyes. “Trust me, I’m not one bit sorry.”

  Throwing up her hands, GramBea replied, “Of course, you’re not.”

  “I didn’t tell Finley to cause you grief or pain, Beatrice. You can be assured it was out of love. I’d still do it again because I love you, and I want you to be happy.”

  “You think Floyd Callum is the only way I can be happy?”

  “No. But at the same time, I know how much happier you were when the two of you were together.”

  GramBea turned her gaze from Estelle to Dot. “What about you? Are you on their side?”

  “It’s not about taking sides. It’s about what’s best for you,” Dot replied diplomatically.

  “Oh, I see. The two of you are trying to get rid of me!” GramBea shrieked.

  Estelle once again rolled her eyes at GramBea’s outbursts. “If you don’t quit being so damned dramatic, I’m going to hold your nose and force some of the contents of my flask into your mouth.”

  GramBea’s eyes bulged. “You wouldn’t dare!”

  “Try me.”

  Whistling, I made a T with my hand. “Okay, okay, time out! Let’s all step back and take a deep breath for a minute.” I mean, damn, things were getting far too over the top with Estelle threatening alcohol on GramBea. I didn’t want to wait to see if a cat fight ensued between the two of them. Truthfully, I couldn’t imagine them actually getting physical since GramBea had always informed me how unladylike it was for girls to fight each other.

  In a soft, yet diplomatic voice, Dot asked, “Do you still think about Floyd like you once did?”

  GramBea fiddled with the hem of her shirt. “From time to time.”

  “Why haven’t you said anything?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “He hasn’t dated anyone in the last year.” With a knowing look, Dot said, “Sometimes I think he only dated Maureen to try and make you jealous.”

  “Who is Maureen?” I asked.

  Dot wrinkled her nose. “This hussy from Maryville.”

  My mouth gaped open. I glanced around waiting for the impending apocalypse brought on by Dot using the word hussy. “I’m sorry, but you just opened your mouth, and it was like her talking,” I said while pointing to Estelle.

  Waving her hand, Dot said, “She was a bottle blonde who swore it was natural. Anyone without cataracts could see she had dark roots.”

  Estelle grunted. “Could we please focus on the task at hand and not whether Floyd went slumming with Maureen Vaughn?”

  GramBea let out a loud, dramatic sigh. “Don’t you realize it’s so much more than inviting him to the party? It’s opening everything back up from five years ago.”

  “If you love him and he loves you, how could that be such a bad thing?” Dot asked.

  Tears shimmered in GramBea’s eyes. “Have the two of you actually stopped to think what might happen to all of us if I were to get serious again with Floyd?”

  “I suppose you might get married.” With a wink, Estelle added, “Of course, at your age, I think we can rule out any children.”

  “You’re impossible,” GramBea huffed.

  Estelle rubbed her shoulder. “Honestly, Beatrice, you don’t need to worry about what will happen to Dot and me if you were to get remarried. What we’ve had the past five years has been a wonderful blessing. But just because you find a man it doesn’t mean we won’t all still have each other.”

  After digging a handkerchief out of one of the drawers, GramBea dabbed the corners of her eyes. “If I married Floyd, we would live together.”

  “Yes, that’s normally how things progress,” Estelle teasingly said.

  “I mean, where would the three of you live?”

  For the first time, I realized some of GramBea’s hesitation about Floyd wasn’t just about the girls. It was sad and touching that she cared so much about me that she would forfeit her own happiness. I suppose that was the crux of motherhood—sacrificing everything for the good of your children and later your grandchildren.

  Reaching forward, I took GramBea’s hand in mine. “Just like Estelle and Dot, I’ll be okay if you married Floyd. I’ve lived alone before, and I can do it again.”

  Estelle tsked. “Why on earth would yo
u need to get a separate place from us?”

  I smiled at her. “You’re right. I know I always have a place with you and Dot.”

  Dot nodded. “Of course, you do.” She jerked her chin at GramBea. “The only thing I ask is for you to move in with Floyd and leave this house to us.”

  Nervous laughter tittered from GramBea’s lips. “Oh, I see how it is. You all just want to get rid of me to have this house.”

  With a grin, Dot said, “We all know Floyd prefers living on the water. He would shrivel and die being a city boy.”

  Snorting, Estelle said, “Seriously, Dot, Floyd hasn’t been a boy since Truman was president.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  As the tension in the air was evaporating, I eyed GramBea. “Does this mean you’ll invite him?”

  Although fear and uncertainty flashed in her eyes, she did manage to nod in agreement. “Good. Now that’s settled, I vote we unofficially rename this the Finley Divorce/Beatrice N Floyd party,” I suggested.

  “I concur,” Estelle said.

  “Me too,” Dot agreed.

  Wrinkling her nose, GramBea replied, “Fine. I suppose I can live with that. Of course, the Beatrice N Floyd addition could use some work.” After tilting her head, she said, “Perhaps Finley and Beatrice Reentering Society party?”

  “I don’t give a shit what we call it as long as Floyd Callum’s ass is at the party,” Estelle replied.

  As I giggled, GramBea rolled her eyes. “Must you always be so crude?” she questioned.

  Winking, Estelle replied, “Only if it means getting a rise out of you.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  When I first got a peek at the guest list for my party, my eyes bulged in horror when I counted fifty people. Fifty? I barely knew fifty people in Atlanta, least of all in Green Valley. Even after factoring in Floyd’s addition, I began whittling it down at a maddening pace. The only people I cared to invite were those I worked with at the library. That meant I could invite Zeke without it seeming too much like a date. Besides all of my co-workers, GramBea had invited my parents and my brother along with some of my other close family members. When I protested about the names on the list I didn’t recognize, GramBea informed me they were members of her circle of friends. I could only imagine what a swinging party it was going to be with librarians and old biddies.

  But as news of the party spread, I became bombarded by people interested in attending. Shock wasn’t even the appropriate word. When I mentioned the party while getting my hair highlighted at The Beauty Mark, Missy, my stylist, and Tammy, the nail girl, voiced their desire to attend. After stopping in at the Donner Bakery with GramBea, Jennifer Winston said she’d like to come while offering up her husband, Cletus, and his friends’ musical services. GramBea enthusiastically extended them all invitations.

  As the attendees grew, I realized I’d somehow managed to forget that this was a small town, and a social event of any kind was very attractive. Most people had no idea who I was or that the party was a celebration of my divorce. All that mattered was there was going to be a Friday night get together in Green Valley.

  As the date neared, the girls became overwhelmed in a flurry of activity. You would have thought they were putting on my bridal shower, rather than my divorce party. They transformed the backyard into a gorgeous wonderland with the help of Homer Edge—a do-it-all handyman from Maryville. There were twinkling lights added to the branches of the oak trees and shrubs. Tables and chairs appeared from the basement while fancy tablecloths appeared from the depths of the linen closet.

  After I got in from work on Thursday, I plopped down at the dining room table to help GramBea polish the silver serving pieces that had been in the family for years. Eyeing me curiously over a candlestick, GramBea asked, “What are you planning on wearing tomorrow night?”

  With a shrug, I replied, “Probably one of my sundresses.”

  The candlestick fell out of GramBea’s hand and clattered onto the table. “You haven’t bought something new?”

  “No. The thought really hadn’t really crossed my mind.”

  Slowly, GramBea shook her head at me. “Honestly, Finley Anne, I sometimes wonder how you managed to get married in the first place.”

  “What exactly does that have to do with what I’m wearing?”

  “Everything. This isn’t just your divorce party. It’s your coming out as single and ready to mingle to Zeke.”

  I groaned. “Please don’t ever use that phrase again.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Fine. I’ll run by the store tomorrow and look for something.”

  Huffing exasperatedly, GramBea replied, “Why I’m sure all the good things are already picked over.”

  I paused in buffing a platter. “Honestly, GramBea, it’s just a dress. I hardly think if I come out wearing one you deem less than desirable that Zeke is going to scream in horror and haul ass away from me.”

  GramBea stared at me for a moment before bobbing her head. “Fine. I’m sure whatever you choose will be perfect.”

  “Thank you.” After pushing the platter aside, I decided it was time to turn the tables on her. “And what are you wearing?”

  “Why should it matter what I’m wearing? This is your party.”

  “Seriously, GramBea?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Fine. Dot helped me pick out a lavender suit in Knoxville two days ago.”

  Cocking my brows at her, I replied, “You went that far? My, my, I’m touched.” I leaned forward. “Did you put that much thought it in for me, or was there someone else you were thinking of?”

  GramBea paused in her polishing. With a shake of her head, she said, “Sometimes I would swear you’re Estelle’s granddaughter, considering the things that come out of your mouth.”

  “That’s probably because we both swear, we’re both modern, free-thinking women, but most of all, we push you out of your comfort zone because we want you to live your best life.”

  The corners of GramBea’s lips quirked up. “Is that what you call harassing me about Floyd? Living my best life?”

  I nodded. “Mostly, it’s payback. You pushed me to get out of bed and move on when I was in such a dark place over my marriage ending. Not only that, but you’ve constantly reminded me there is happiness out there for me.” With a smile, I added, “Now it’s my turn to push you.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you’d happily push me right off a cliff if it was in pursuit of a man.”

  Tapping my chin, I replied, “Funny. I would say the same thing about you. Maybe it’s because we really share DNA.”

  “I would say so.”

  “Are you nervous?” I asked.

  “About seeing Floyd?”

  I nodded. “I mean, I’m sure you see him in other social settings, right?”

  “Yes, church.”

  “Oh good Lord,” I groaned.

  “What’s wrong with seeing him in church?”

  “Nothing. Just promise tomorrow night you won’t be picturing him in any type of holy way.”

  “It’s not like he’s a minister, Finley.”

  “Whatever. Just leave church for Sunday, okay?”

  “Fine. I will.”

  “Good.”

  As we both resumed polishing the silver, GramBea kept eyeing me from time to time. “What?” I finally asked.

  “I was just wondering if you were nervous.”

  “Why should I be nervous? I see Zeke almost every day.”

  “Yes, but he knows you’re divorced now. You’ve been together outside of work. Tomorrow night could be pivotal.”

  While I might’ve been thinking the same thing myself, I wasn’t going to let her know that. It didn’t help the sailor style knot that formed in my stomach whenever I thought about the party. Or Zeke. Or Zeke being at the party. “I’m fine. Really,” I replied with false nonchalance.

  With a knowing look, GramBea replied, “You’re not fooling me. You’re just as nervous as me.”

>   “Okay, you got me. I’m nervous about making it through the night without you embarrassing me in front of Zeke.”

  Batting her eyelashes in false innocence, GramBea replied, “Embarrass you? Just however would I do that?”

  “Don’t play coy. You know exactly what I mean. You would do any and everything for him to ask me out on a date.”

  “It pains me that you would concern yourself so much with me.”

  “I could say the same.”

  GramBea laughed. “If it will comfort your nerves, I promise to not make any over-the-top gestures to Zeke while you’re here.”

  “You mean that?”

  “You have my word.”

  “Why do I feel like there should be some kind of catch?”

  “While it might surprise you, the last thing on earth I would ever want is to jeopardize your chances with Zeke. If that means keeping my mouth shut and giving the two of you a wide berth at the party, then so be it.”

  I blinked at her in surprise. “Wow, I’m impressed.”

  “I’m glad you’re so grateful.” Dropping her gaze back down to the candlestick, she added, “I assume I can expect the same from you when it comes to Floyd?”

  With a snort, I replied, “Seriously, GramBea, I’ve never even met the man. How could you possibly think I would be trying to rein him in for you?”

  “By your response, I believe we are in agreement.”

  “Yes, we’re in agreement.”

  She glanced up at me with a smile. “Good. Now that’s settled, let’s get your dress squared away.”

  “What are the odds you won’t leave me alone until I let you help me pick out something to wear?”

  Grinning, she replied, “Zero to none.” After just a flick of her wrist, I stood and followed her upstairs to the attic. I’m not sure why I was surprised when GramBea pilfered through the attic yet again to find me a dress. I was seriously debating asking her to showcase some of the pieces from the attic in the library. “If you like it, I’ll air it out today and tomorrow before the party,” she said as she handed the dress to me.

  It was navy blue with tiny white polka dots. The fitted waist flared out into a fuller skirt and had wide straps on the bodice. Although it was from the sixties, it could easily have been worn today. After stripping down to my undies, I slipped the dress on. “How do you like it?” she asked.