Summer at Sunset: (The Summer Series Book 2) by Beth Labonte

Author:Beth Labonte [Labonte, Beth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2016-12-17T16:00:00+00:00

21

It’s early evening when Tanya drops me off at the Blenderman house, and I find Graham sitting quietly in the living room, drinking a beer. He doesn’t have the television on or anything. He’s just sitting there drinking, and I can’t shake the feeling that Francine called and tattled on me the second that I left her house.

“Hey,” I say, dropping my purse on the floor and joining him on the couch. “Whatcha doing?”

“Just waiting for you,” he replies, taking a sip of beer and glancing at my purse. “Shopping not go so well?”

Crap. I totally forgot we were supposed to have been going shopping. I could have at least brought in a bag stuffed with tissues or something.

“Um, yeah,” I say, laughing nervously. “Who knew it would be so hard to find youthful underwear in a retirement community?”

Graham nods slowly. “It’s okay. You still have some time.”

“Right. Of course.” I nod along with him. “I’ll find something. Definitely.”

“Perfect.”

We sit in awkward silence for a few seconds. I clear my throat.

“So, um, where is everybody?”

“Out to dinner,” says Graham.

“All of them? Without us?”

“I told them we’d meet up with them later.”

“Oh.”

Yep. Francine definitely called and tattled on me. Graham’s acting way stranger than normal, and his phone is on the coffee table instead of in his pocket, which is highly suggestive of the possibility that he just took a call. If I checked his recent call list I would probably see her name in there. Maybe if he goes to the bathroom I can—

No!

Did I seriously just consider snooping on Graham’s phone—a few days before our wedding—to see if a seventy-five year old woman called him? What kind of a monster am I turning into? Tanya was right—Graham and I aren’t going to last very long if I don’t trust him. But the thing is, I do trust him. I fully trust that if Francine called and tattled on me, Graham would come right out and tell me. Just as Graham should trust that if I ever did anything crazy—say, flip out on an old woman whom he thinks of as a grandmother—that I would come right out and tell him. And I will. We just need to get the conversation started, instead of wasting time with all of this awkward small talk. Once we clear the air, we can go on our merry way as a united front, together forever in holy matrimony.

I hope.

“So, Graham,” I say, twisting the end of a blanket around in my hand. “Have you, um, have you talked to Francine lately?”

“Francine?”

“Yeah, Francine.” I tilt my head to the side and flip my hair behind my shoulder. “You know, older gal, black hair, smoker’s cough?”

Graham puts his beer down on the coffee table and turns to look at me, the corner of his mouth pulling up into a half smile. “Do you think I’ve talked to Francine lately?”

I look him straight in the eye. Just be honest, Sum.

“Maybe?”

Baby steps. Sue me.

Graham stares back at me,

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