“Yeah, okay, but you love her, of course,” she prompted.
“Love, shmove,” he answered. “Love is for you young people.”
“How can you be married for sixty-five years and not love your wife?” She smiled, hoping to encourage him.
“I don’t know,” Pops said, giving a cookie to her dog, who swallowed it instantly. “I’m cursed?”
“You’re a horrible old man, that’s what you are,” she said, fixing his collar. “Admit it, Pops. You love Goggy.”
“I love this wine, that’s what I love. Do you like it?”
She took a sip. “Lemon, honeysuckle, a smidgeon of burnt marshmallow.”
“That’s my girl.”
“Anyway, I thought your anniversary would be a great way to dedicate the barn. A Holland family event, and such a milestone. I know Goggy would love it.”
“You want to throw us an anniversary party?”
“Absolutely! The leaves will still be beautiful, we could invite all your friends and colleagues, and it’d be a great way to have everyone see the new venue. The Barn at Blue Heron, the nice old Holland clan. What do you think?”
“I think I should get a Purple Heart and a week’s vacation, alone, that’s what I think.”
Remembering the story of Goggy’s tragic first love, Faith sighed. “Pops, I think it would mean a lot to Goggy. A long marriage is something to be proud of—”
“Or terrified of,” he said.
“—and Goggy deserves a special night. Don’t you think so?”
“Oh, I don’t know. We don’t generally like that sort of fuss.”
“What sort of fuss?” Goggy asked, coming back into the room.
“It’s about time,” Pops grumbled. “I’m starving. It’s ten after five already.”
“I was telling Pops,” Faith said firmly, “that I thought it’d be nice to throw you two an anniversary party.”
“What does he think?” Goggy said after a beat, as if her husband wasn’t seated a foot away.
“Who needs a party?” Pops snorted. “Too much money.”
“I’d love it,” Goggy said instantly. “What a nice idea, sweetheart! Aren’t you wonderful to think of it.” She gave Pops a dirty look, then smiled at Faith. “Want to stay for supper? You look too thin.”
Oh, grandmothers! “No, Goggy, but thanks. I have to go, actually. I have a date.”
This caused some coos of delight from Goggy, who felt she was owed more great-grandchildren, and fast, as well as some grumbles of warning from Pops about the evil natures of men.
Faith kissed them both, then headed for home. She was meeting Ryan Hill at O’Rourke’s, which would allow Colleen to check out the guy, as well as allow Faith to get the nachos grande. Two birds, one stone, a possible husband.
But first, Faith thought as she came into the Village, a macchiato from Lorelei’s. She tied Blue to the lamppost and went into the bakery, where she was immediately presented with the solid back of Manningsport’s chief of police, who was just placing his order. “Medium coffee, please, Lorelei. Cream, no sugar.”
“You got it, Chief,” Lorelei said with her customary smile.
“You sure you want cream?” Faith asked, a trifle loudly. Chief Asspain turned and gave her a four on the Boredom Scale—What’s your name again? Didn’t stop her knees from giving a traitorous wobble. “Because you might think you want cream, but then you taste the coffee, and you decide you don’t really like it, after all. Cream might be a bad idea. Or a big mistake.”
“It won’t be,” he said, giving her an odd look.
“Wow. You’re so decisive today, Levi! But are you sure? Because if you end up not liking the coffee, its feelings might be hurt.”
“What are you babbling about?” he said.
“Indecision. Poor impulse control. Waffling.”
The four grew to a six: I can’t believe I still have to talk to you. Lorelei handed him his coffee. “There you go, Chief! Oh, hi, Faith, I didn’t see you there! How are you? What would you like today?”
Screw the coffee. Granted, she might go into sugar shock, but some fortification was called for. “I’ll have a chocolate croissant and a small hot chocolate, please.”
“You bet!”
“How about a slab of chocolate cake with that?” Levi suggested. “Maybe a candy bar on the side?”
“Aren’t there criminals who need to be brought to justice somewhere, Levi? Hmm?”
He was still staring, his forehead slightly crinkled. “Is this about the other day?” he asked.
“What other day?” she snapped.
“Look,” he said, “that...moment...was a mistake, and I’m sorry.”
“Women love to hear that. No, really. It’s so flattering.”
“I’m not trying to flatter you. I’m just telling you the truth. It was a blunder, and I regret it.”
“Keep it up. I might swoon.”
Lorelei was done and rang her up. Faith handed her a five. “Thanks, Lorelei,” she said, taking her goodies. “Chief Cooper. Have a lovely day.”
He didn’t bother answering, but his irritation was palpable.
It was deeply satisfying.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
TWO HOURS LATER, Faith walked into the warm Friday night roar that was O’Rourke’s and went straight to Colleen, keeper of all information. “He’s here,” Coll said, “third booth in the back, adorable, nice manners, hint of a Southern drawl.” Her friend grinned and pulled a beer for Wayne Knox. Looked like the volunteer fire department was having a “meeting.” Gerard, Neddy-bear, Jessica Does and Kelly Matthews were all grouped on one side of the bar, howling with laughter.
“How do I look?” Faith asked her.
Colleen leaned over the bar and gave Faith’s shirt a tug to show more flesh. “There. Work the assets, girlfriend. Am I right, boys?”
The males of the fire department agreed heartily. “Can’t go wrong with boobs,” Everett Field said.
“I babysat you,” Faith returned.
“I remember. I think about it all the time.” He received a hearty slap on the back from Gerard Chartier, his comrade-in-ogling.
“Get going,” Coll said. “Jeremy’s already over there, chatting him up.”
“Jeremy’s here?”
“Yeah. He and Levi usually come in on Fridays.”
“Their weekly date?” Faith couldn’t help asking.
“I must say, Levi is looking über-hot these days,” Coll said. “Those arms! Honestly, he comes in wearing a T-shirt and I actually have an orgasm. Here’s your white wine spritzer, Mrs. Boothby.” She ignored the disapproving glare from the florist. “Your dad is also here,” Colleen added, “speaking of men who—”
“Oops! There’s the line, don’t cross it.” Faith went to the far side of the bar where her father was talking to—oh, hemorrhoid, to Levi. “Hi, Dad. You look