No More Tears by Sandy Appleyard

Author:Sandy Appleyard
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Appleyard Enterprises

Chapter 13

Grayson

“Was your wife your best friend?” she asks, and then she can’t look at me. Laura turns her head, picking at an imaginary piece of lint on her jeans.

I look at her. “Hey,”

She looks up. “Sorry. I had no right to ask you that. It’s none of my business.”

“Laura, I’m not offended.”

“Well, you should be.” She says. “If someone that I barely knew had asked me that, five years after Quentin died, I would have told them to mind their own business.”

“Well, you and I are different people.” I state. “And, give me a little credit; we don’t barely know each other…I think we’ve gotten to know each other quite well.”

She nods. “Yes.”

“Kelly and I were never friends. We dated in high school from the very beginning. So, no, she wasn’t my best friend. If I were to label anyone that, it would be my brother Kurt.” I pause. “There.” I nudge her with my elbow. “Now, quid quo pro.”

“Lisa has been my best friend since Quentin and I met. She’s the reason I got so close to him. If it weren’t for Quentin, Lisa and I would never have been best friends. So, no, Quentin was not my best friend.”

“Well, now, see? Not such offensive questions or answers at all.”

“No, I suppose you’re right.”

This woman is so guarded it’s disarming. “You can ask me whatever you want, Laura.” I pause for emphasis. “I trust you.”

“Thank you.” She looks at me. “I trust you, too.”

She sighs. “I should get inside. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”

“Sure. Goodnight, Laura.”

“Goodnight, Grayson.”

All us boys get up bright and early to get the ranch work done before the party preparations have to start. Picnic tables that we keep way in the back of the barn are brought out, and folding tables, too, for food. Extra garbage bins are brought out from storage and placed around the tables. The ladies take care of the decorations like balloons, and some streamers are hung from some of the trees. It doesn’t take more than a couple of hours.

Laura, Grace and Wendy start bringing out coolers filled with ice, full of drinks, and I notice that there is no alcohol. I assume that someone has been tasked with that deed for later. We head inside for lunch, and then Laura disappears upstairs. When she re-emerges, she’s wearing the most fetching little dress. And she’s let her hair out. I have to look twice when she comes into the kitchen, just as I’m placing my dishes in the sink.

“Wow,” Is all I can say. Her dress is light blue, which brings out her eyes. It has spaghetti straps, and the neck of it comes down just enough to frame a breath of her cleavage. A tiny droplet necklace hangs from her neck, and the dress is caught just above her waist with a slim, black belt. Then it hangs freely, landing just above her knee. I’ve never seen her feet before, as she’s always wearing boots, but her toes are perfect, and they’re displayed daintily in a pair of leather sandals.

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