South of Superior - Ellen Airgood [35]
“Glad he had a good time. Where is he?”
“He’s down at Halfway with Roscoe and Annie, he just loves Andrea. He’s so cute with her, you’d think he was her big brother or something. Such a little old man.”
A thoughtful look flickered across Paul’s face. “That he is.”
“So, when are you ever finally going to quit that nasty job down at the prison?” Randi asked after a moment.
“Never, I guess. Those poor guys have to have someone who can cook for them.”
Randi’s eyes drifted over to Madeline and Paul said, “I’m just showing Madeline around. She’s going to be working here this summer.”
“Oh. Well, that’s cool.” Randi sounded anything but enthused and Madeline thought, You’ve got a thing for him. Then she thought if that was so it might show the girl had at least some sense, because all in all, Paul Garceau seemed like a decent person.
After a week Madeline felt like she was getting the hang of the place. Paul even left her alone for ten or fifteen minutes sometimes, if he had an errand to run. The doorbells jangled one afternoon and Madeline looked Up from juicing lemons to see Randi coming in with Greyson. His red hair was tousled and his freckled, narrow face was as intense as Madeline remembered.
“Hello, Madeline!” he said.
“Grey! You know better. You have to say, ‘Miss Stone.’ ”
“Oh, no,” Madeline said. “He can’t do that, I won’t know who he’s talking to.”
“Well, but I like him to be polite. He does a real good job of it, don’t you, Grey?”
Madeline wondered if she could ever get Used to that voice—husky and sexy no matter what Randi said. Randi leaned against the counter and plucked a lemon from Madeline’s bowl. “So you’re helping Gladys and Arbutus. That is so cool.”
“I like them.” Madeline squeezed another lemon, her eye on the one in Randi’s hand. It was silly, it was only a lemon, but she wanted it back where it belonged.
“It is so cool of Gladys to, like, send me leftovers. She is such a good cook, tell her thank you again for me. I sort of forgot in the Trackside that day, I was so Upset.” Randi rolled the lemon on the counter Under her palm. Madeline wanted to snatch it from her and say, Tell her yourself, you thoughtless girl, and you don’t really think they’re leftovers, do you? But she didn’t. She said, “All right.”
Randi put the lemon back in the bowl finally and ordered a lemonade, then scooped Greyson Up so they could drink it together. After a few sips she said, “So, where’s Paul, is he in the kitchen?” Madeline was a little ashamed of herself for feeling a stab of satisfaction at being able to say, no, he wasn’t, he’d gone to the bank. Randi shrugged and said “Oh” in a way that was hard to read. Madeline wondered at her own curiosity—were Randi and Paul a couple, did Randi have a crush on him?—but supposed it was only human nature. She watched them leave, Greyson waving from his perch on Randi’s hip, then ran a bucket of hot water to clean Up the juicer.
For Pete’s sake, she sighed to herself, and smiled sadly. (That had been one of Emmy’s catchphrases, Emmy who never swore ever.) She made a mental apology to Emmy for wanting to wring Randi’s neck. She’d promised to be more forgiving, but so far it wasn’t going so well.
The doorbells tinkled again a moment later.
“Hey!” Randi said, popping her head back in. “Are you, like, really super busy?”
“Ah—not right at the moment.”
Randi came fully inside, tugging Greyson behind her. “Can I ask you, like, a really, really big favor?”
“Umm. Well. You can ask.”
“Could you look after Greyson for a tiny minute? Like for maybe half an hour?”
“I—”
“I promise, he is totally no trouble.” Randi turned her son toward her and tugged his T-shirt straight. “You be a good boy for Madeline,” she told him and he nodded.
“Hey, I don’t—”
“Paul won’t mind, I promise, he is such a sweetie. I’ve just got to do, like, one thing, and then I’ll be back. Forty minutes, tops.” She gave Madeline an enormous smile. “Thank you so much.