Wed, Read & Dead by V. M. Burns

Author:V. M. Burns [Burns, V. M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2019-02-13T00:00:00+00:00

Harold and Mom were already downstairs when we arrived. The last to arrive were the couple with the shortest commute. Margaret and Oscar strolled in right as the waiter was showing us to our seats.

Harold had requested a table that was positioned in between a large picture window and the fireplace. The table offered excellent views of the icy winter wonderland that was Lake Michigan in the dead of winter, with the heat and atmosphere of a warm, crackling fireplace. Margaret headed toward the seat closest to the fireplace, but Harold was quicker.

“Margaret, I’m sure you don’t mind if Grace sits here closest to the fireplace.” He pulled out the chair and helped Mom sit, not waiting to hear whether Margaret minded or not.

Margaret obviously minded, because she sulkily stood nearby.

“Margaret, why don’t you take this seat near Sam and me,” Nana Jo said with so much syrup in her voice I had to glance back to make sure who was talking. She winked and whispered, “I’m going to need insulin before the night is over.”

Margaret plastered on a fake smile and sat down in the seat Nana Jo indicated.

I took the seat on one side, while Nana Jo sat on her other side. Tony and Jenna sat on either side of Oscar, and the stage was set.

I stole a glance at Nana Jo, who raised an eyebrow and then lifted her hand. “Waiter.”

When the waiter arrived, Nana Jo ordered a Wild Turkey for herself. She turned to Margaret. “What would you like?”

Margaret smiled. “I’m not much of a drinker . . . I’ll have what she’s having.” She pointed to Nana Jo.

I opened my mouth to warn her bourbon might not be the drink for someone who wasn’t accustomed to it, but a look from Nana Jo stopped me.

“I’ll have a Pellegrino.” I decided I might need to keep my wits about me for whatever Nana Jo was cooking up.

The waiter took our drink orders and quickly returned.

Nana Jo raised her glass. “To Grace and Harold. May you both have a long, happy life together.”

We all lifted our glasses. “To Grace and Harold.”

Nana Jo tossed back her bourbon like someone doing shots.

Margaret stared at her and took a sip of her drink. From the scowl that followed, it was clear bourbon wasn’t her favorite.

“It’s best to just close your eyes and knock it back in one fell swoop.” Nana Jo smiled at her.

I stared across the table at Jenna, who merely shrugged and sipped her sangria.

Margaret looked at Nana Jo and then put her head back and swallowed her bourbon. “Ugh. That burns.”

“Isn’t it wonderful.” Nana Jo waved to the waiter. “Two more.”

“Oh, no, not for me.” Margaret shook her head.

“Perhaps something a little milder,” Nana Jo offered. “A cosmopolitan.”

“What’s in it?” Margaret asked.

“It’s just cranberry juice, lime, Cointreau or triple sec, and vodka.” Nana Jo rattled off the ingredients like a bartender. “I think you’ll like it.”

Margaret nodded and the waiter was off in a flash.

We made small talk about the weather for several minutes until the waiter returned.

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