Seven Sisters - Earlene Fowler [63]
“How’s things going, Miguel?” Gabe asked.
“Fine, Chief. Sunday morning watch is a piece of cake. All the drunks are sleeping it off somewhere. Last night was crazy, though.”
Gabe nodded. “I figured when that new bar next to the Chinese buffet started selling beer for seventy-five cents it would be trouble.”
“Gum Alley is unwalkable today,” Miguel said. “Hope the city gets someone down there to clean it up soon. Puke and piss, that’s all those skippies know how to do.”
“Skippies?” Emory said.
“College students,” Gabe interpreted. “Specifically the drinkers.”
“And to think they’ll be running the treasury when we’re collecting Social Security,” Emory said. “Lord have mercy.”
“Can we change the subject?” I asked, staring down at my enchilada, which was looking decidedly less appetizing.
“Sure,” Miguel said. “Actually, I came over to give you a message, Benni.”
“Me?” I said.
“Tell Dove no.”
I gave him a confused look. “What?”
“Just what I said. Tell her no. Absolutely not. No way.”
“What?”
“Just tell her.”
The man at the take-out counter called out his name.
“Gotta go,” he said. He nodded at Gabe and Emory. “Later, amigos.”
“Take it easy,” Gabe said.
“Don’t work too hard,” Emory called after him.
“Ignore that comment,” Gabe added.
I cut another piece of my enchilada. “Wonder what his message to Dove means.”
“Who knows what our dear Dove has brewing in her box of tricks,” Emory said.
“Talk about your mixed metaphors,” I said.
“Keep quiet, sweetcakes. I’m suffering this morning. I don’t need my English scrutinized.”
“Whiny-baby. So are you going to the barrel tasting and artist’s reception this afternoon?”
“Have to. I’m covering it for the paper. You two going?”
“Yes,” I said.
“No,” Gabe said.
I turned to him, surprised. “I thought you were going.”
He took a sip of his Corona beer. “Didn’t I tell you last night that Sam, Bliss, Lydia, and I were going to visit Lydia’s mother in Buellton?”
“No,” I said slowly. “You didn’t.”
“I’m sure I did. Or I must have told you this morning.”
“And I’m sure I would have remembered,” I said, feeling a slowly rising heat in my chest. “I didn’t even know Lydia’s mother lived close by.”
“Lydia moved her there when she took the job in Santa Barbara. Sam wanted us to come with him and Bliss when they tell her about their engagement and the baby. I’m sure I asked you if you wanted to go.”
“No, you’re mistaken,” I said, really starting to get mad now. “You never mentioned it to me.”
Gabe’s face set in that stubborn, contrary look that said he was certain he was right and I was wrong.
Emory’s amused green eyes darted from my face to Gabe’s.
“Well, do you want to go?” Gabe asked, his voice carrying an edge of impatience.
I inhaled deeply, my anger feeling like too much air in a helium balloon. “No, thank you,” I said, as sweetly as I could manage. “I promised JJ I’d go to the barrel tasting.”
“Fine.” He turned to Emory. “Can you give her a ride there and home? I’m late already.”
“Certainly,” my cousin said serenely. “I’ll take good care of your wife, Cousin Gabe.”
Gabe wiped his mouth quickly with his linen napkin and slid out of the booth. He leaned over and kissed me on the forehead. “I’ll see you tonight, sweetheart.”
“Sure,” I said.
After he left, Emory studied me silently until I finally blurted out, “Oh, for crying out loud, Emory. What can I do, hog-tie him and sit on his chest?”
He shook his head slowly. “I’m tellin’ you, sweetcakes, that woman is plain after your man. You’d best be circling the wagons and filling up the muskets.”
“Now you’re mixing your historical references.”
“So what are you going to do, pray tell?”
“First I’m going to the ladies’ room, then I’m going to let you take me to the barrel tasting. The rest, as my famous kinswoman once said, I’ll think about tomorrow.”
“New lingerie. Many a man has been lured back home