She pulls from my hold. “Don’t tell me what I think.” She blows out a breath. “Can we do this later? I need to pick up the wine, and you need to pick up your dad. I need to finish cooking and?—”
I grab my keys off the hook on the wall. “I’ll go get the wine before I get my dad. I’ll be back.”
I walk out the back door and resist punching the wall in the garage. She can’t do this. I won’t let her do this to us. Not again.
I thought everything was perfect. I thought we were happy, but it seems that history is repeating itself.
I drive to the liquor store and am looking for the wine when I see an older woman trying to pick up a crate of bottles. I rush over to her. “Here, let me help you.”
I pick up the crate and put it in the cart for her. As I am about to walk away, she says, “I see you’re back.”
I stop and force a smile I’m not feeling. “Yep, I’m back.”
She holds her hand out to me. “Will you help me get another crate?”
I nod. “Sure.”
She grabs my hand and puts it on her cart. I start pushing, and she holds on to my arm as we go. This has to be the weirdest interaction I’ve had in a while, but my mom would roll over in her grave if she knew I didn’t help someone that needed it. “So are you staying this time?”
I look at her, surprised. “Yeah, I’m staying.”
She slaps me on the arm. “That’s good. That girl was heartbroken when you left last time.”
I peer down at her, trying to recall how I know the woman. “You know Izzy?”
She laughs. “I was their next-door neighbor.”
I search my memory. “Gladys?”
Her whole face lights up. “You remember me?”
I nod. “How could I forget you? You made the best chocolate chess pie I’ve ever eaten.”
She smiles ear to ear. “Well, son, you just made my day. Thank you for that.”
“You’re welcome. It’s true.”
She points at the next crate, and I get it down for her. “You planning a party?”
She harumphs. “Family dinner, and since I can’t cook like I used to, they put me on wine duty.” She huffs her breath. “The ungrateful little turds…”
I laugh.
She keeps walking around the store, and I just walk with her. I don’t know why I say it, maybe because I need someone to talk to. “You know, I left back then because Izzy broke up with me. She wasn’t heartbroken.”
She stops walking and tilts her head to look up at me. “She broke up with you?”
I nod.
She shakes her head. “That doesn’t make sense at all.” She scratches her head. “I thought you broke up with her since she had to stay in Whiskey Run and couldn’t go with you.”
I tighten my hold on the cart. “What do you mean that she had to stay in Whiskey Run?”
She blinks up at me. “You don’t know?”
“Know what?” I ask, half out of patience.
“Rachel was diagnosed with breast cancer.”
