“It’s okay, babe. It’s okay. I got you. I got you.” Garrett repeated nonsense phrases like that and wrapped his arms around Chelsea like he was a big cocoon that could hide her from the world.
Ethan got up to retrieve the pieces of the mug, and Garrett led Chelsea to the porch swing, and settled onto it with her. She leaned into him and drew her legs up, curling into a ball. Her cheeks were wet, and after a moment she took a shuddering breath.
Ethan carried the mug bits inside to dispose of them, and to give them a minute. He grabbed a towel, and filled another mug for his aunt, fixing it the way she liked. Then he returned outside, set the mug on the little glass-topped stand in front of the porch swing, and quickly wiped up the spill.
“Thanks, Ethan,” she said. “I’m okay.”
They’d had almost a year to get used to calling him Ethan, but in her and Garrett’s minds, he’d always be Bubba, and he knew it. Then his aunt frowned and said, “How did you find out?”
“A lawyer notified him,” Garrett told her.
She met Garrett’s eyes, then sat up straighter, put her feet down, and looked at Ethan. “He left you something, didn’t he?”
“Yeah. I can disclaim most of it, and intend to?—”
“But Ethan, that could be a fortune,” she said.
“The devil’s money. It has my mother’s blood on it.” He lowered his eyes. “I can disclaim it. All of it except one thing he put in my name before he died. And I don’t know how or why, but somehow he owned Manny’s Cantina. And now I guess I do.”
“How could he—?” Chelsea began, but she glanced at her husband and stopped speaking. Garrett was frowning hard, and she said, “Wait, did you know something about this?”
“Manny was havin’ money troubles—must’ve been long about five years back,” Garrett said. “I remember he couldn’t get a loan from the bank, ’cause he talked about it one night with a few beers in him. A coupl’a months later, he was upgradin’ the restrooms. I never did hear where he got the money.”
“Well, I gotta go see him,” Ethan said. “I got no intention of keepin’ it. I’ll just sign it over to Manny. At least maybe I can right one of that bastard’s wrongs.”
“It’s a good plan,” Garrett said.
“Why don’t you tell Manny tonight?” Aunt Chelsea asked. “The stress of being in debt to a loan shark, if that’s what this was, must’ve contributed to his heart attack, so the sooner he knows it’s over, the better.”
“You think he’s up to it?” Ethan asked.
Chelsea nodded. “It was a minor event, as heart attacks go. He’s been home a couple of weeks, and I understand he even opened the Cantina tonight.”
“How are you so much better informed about what’s goin’ on in Quinn County than I am?” Garrett asked. “I’m the sheriff.”
“And I’m a woman,” she said with a loving smile. “I think the sooner you can ease Manny’s mind about this, the better, Ethan. This news might be the best medicine he could have right now.”
“I think you might be right, about that,” Ethan said.
“Lily’s been helpin’ out at the Cantina, you know,” Chelsea went on, trying to act casual about it. “Said she had some vacation time piled up, so she took it right after Manny’s heart attack.”
“Mighty selfless thing to do,” Garrett said. “That’s a good woman, right there.”
“A good woman,” Chelsea repeated, nodding.
Ethan closed his eyes, lowered his head, and managed not to cuss aloud. They were onto him. Shoot.
Lily sat across the table from Fred Raspin. He was one of the hospital’s vampires—a phlebotomist. He drew blood from patients for testing. She had been a nurse, so they’d interacted many times almost every shift. It had never occurred to her to date him. There was no spark, no attraction. At least not on her part. So she’d been totally unprepared when he’d asked her out for dinner on the day she’d given her two weeks’ notice and explained that she’d be taking her two-week vacation during the interim.
She’d blurted “okay” to Fred’s invitation without thinking first, then panicked because she wanted to take it back, and then didn’t take it back because it felt mean.
“Really?” he’d asked, surprise making the word curve upward at the end.
She’d felt she had to follow through. But she could at least keep things light, casual, and be in a place with backup if she needed to make a graceful exit.
As much as she’d been helping out there, Manny’s was becoming her home away from home. Working with her father again, like she had back in Ithaca when she’d been in college, and he’d been a chef trying to manage a diner, when all he wanted to do was cook.
Lily had suggested to Fred that they should go someplace casual and friendly, and asked whether he liked tacos. He’d received the message. Friendly. Okay. She wondered if he’d retract the invitation. He didn’t, maybe because he also felt obligated to go through with it.
