“Well . . . We got hungry, so I figured, why not goulash.”
“Who’s ‘we,’ Aunt May?” Gertrude reluctantly inquired.
“We thought you’d never ask.” Grady popped his head into view of the kitchen entrance alongside Aunt May.
“Well, hello, there, Ronald,” Peggy chimed in.
“The name is Wilson.” Wilson nudged his way into the kitchen, cigarette hanging from his crooked mouth.
“Is that garlic bread?” Tom added, darting his head between the others to see.
“Looks like we’ll be moving to the dining room table.” Gertrude forced a grin, masking her disappointment.
“This should be interesting,” Ronald murmured, reserving judgment toward Peggy. She’d rubbed him the wrong way ever since he was a little boy, and from the looks of it, the feeling was mutual.
Peggy stood glaring at him through narrow eyes. It was that very same gawp he had gotten a glimpse of that night she had confronted him as he dug barehanded into the soil and gravel of the lot next door.
* * *
It was nearly two o’clock in the morning when she spied him all alone. Young Ronald dug in a panic, sweat pouring down his face. “I’m coming, Cecelia,” he grunted.
She snuck up on him. “Does your father know you’re out here digging like some grave robber or are you burying something?” Peggy asked, startling him to pause. “I should march you right back across the street and let your daddy deal with you,” the wrinkled hag threatened.
Out of nowhere, her husband, Russell, burst out of the front screen door onto the porch, nearly flipping over the porch railing. It would be the first time he’d cracked his head on the ground in a drunken rage. “Peggy, you get your ass in here,” he yelled, standing upright yet wobbling left to right on his bare feet.
“Don’t you ever come out here embarrassing me like that,” she threatened with a wagging finger. The drunk woman charged at her husband, tearing up the porch, only to be knocked to the ground by a swift backhand.
“Get your ass up and get in here, or I’ll show you who’s boss,” Russell demanded as he tore back into the house.
It was the first and only time anyone had ever confronted the out-of-sorts little boy during one of his night terrors.
* * *
But in the present day, it was time for dinner.
“Okay, everyone,” Gertrude announced, “let’s all go have a seat at the dining room table. Aunt May, if you’ll lead the way, Ronald and I will be in there shortly with dinner, plates, and utensils for everyone. You guys just sit back and relax.”
“Thank you, niece. You always were my favorite niece.”
“Aunt May, I’m your only niece.”
“I know,” she smiled. “Come on, gang. Let’s get ready for dinner.” She headed out of the kitchen with her brood in tow.
Grady sucked his teeth, making sure to give Ronald the stare down before leaving the kitchen. The 78-year-old man had two granddaughters in their teens, so he was used to doing background checks on the boys they dated. Being skeptical of Ronald’s intentions came naturally to Grady. Not to mention, he himself had been a bit of a hellion in his younger years.
“What the heck is that all about?” Gertrude whispered after their impromptu dinner guests cleared the kitchen.
“Do you think they are,” Ronald paused, unsure if he should ask, “you know, high?” He painted a more vivid picture, lifting his pinched fingertips to his mouth.
Gertrude waved him off with a flippant hand gesture. “Ronald, no. My aunt May doesn’t mess around with that stuff.” Deep down, though, she wondered what the hell her aunt was thinking, showing up at home before bingo night ended and with a clan of other elderly in tow, claiming to be hungry.
“What about the rest of the bunch? They look a little rough around the edges,” Ronald joked.
Gertrude finally relented, feeding into the notion. “The one with the cigarette, he’s quite the character, isn’t he? Is that a cowboy hat he’s wearing?” she giggled.
“Didn’t you see the boots? Fresh to death,” Ronald added.
Gertrude tried her best to contain her laughter, shushing him in the same instance. “They’re going to hear us,” she whispered.
“Okay, let’s get the gang some food before they tear up the place. You didn’t happen to make dessert, did you?”
Dang it. Gertrude began kicking herself for not having prepared her famous banana pudding. “I didn’t. I’m sorry.”
Ronald hopped up from his seat. “No. It’s perfectly fine. I actually have a batch of homemade cookies next door. I don’t plan on eating them all myself, and this would be the perfect opportunity to share.”
“Great. Aunt May loves desserts.” Gertrude blushed, grateful she’d met a man so considerate.
“I’ll be right back.”
While Ronald headed back to his unit to get dessert, May, Peggy, Grady, and Tom all congregated around the cherrywood dining room table. Wilson stood nearby, pulling drags from his Marlboro Red as he eyeballed his reflection through the glass of the matching china cabinet against the wall. It housed a plethora of plates, teacups, and crystal figurines. Even an old-school photo of May seated in a wicker chair was among those on display.
“You sure were a young tenderoni,” Wilson admitted.
He’d had a crush on Aunt May since the first time he saw her at the recreation hall. To his disappointment, May disregarded his many advances, content with being alone. Her husband, with whom she’d never had children, died in the Vietnam War. Aunt May had been single ever since. Her bedroom was always a shrine to her late husband, no matter where she lived.
Wilson’s marriage took a nosedive after his daughters graduated high school. Both he and his wife had agreed they’d stay together as long as they had the girls, making the split amicable. His relationship with his girls never faltered because of it, a fact his grandchildren benefited from greatly. You could say he was the Bill Cosby of grandfathers, pre scandal.
Still, May didn’t want anything he had to offer beyond friendship. “I was definitely a looker back then.”
“Don’t discount your more mature self,” Wilson said, stepping closer, mashing the end of his Marlboro into the ashtray atop the table.
“Oh, put your britches out. We’ve got more important things to tend to,” Peggy scoffed, secretly jealous of the attention Wilson constantly awarded May.
May could plainly see Peggy’s jealousy, yet it didn’t seem to bother her. She had no feelings for Wilson, so Peggy could have him as far as she was concerned.
Peggy leaned in, pressing her ample bosom to the table. “Now, how should we approach this?” she whispered, softening her voice as best she could.
“What are you guys in here whispering about?” Gertrude asked as she entered with two wicker baskets full of garlic bread sticks.
Grady finally chimed in, grabbing a bread stick from one of the baskets before it even hit the table. “That’s for grown folks’ ears, young lady.”
“That’s funny. Last time I checked, I was a fully grown adult.”
“You betta check again,” he mumbled with his cheeks full, devouring the tasty dough.
Gertrude rolled her eyes as she exited and returned to the kitchen, intent on not arguing with her elders.
Tom, who had at least waited for the basket to hit the table before digging in, finally offered his two cents. “This bread is delicious. She certainly cooks like a grown-up, that’s for sure.”
His admission prompted Wilson to partake in sampling the bread.
Chapter 15
A Special Ingredient
Next door, Ronald rummaged through the cabinets attempting to find a dish appropriate enough to house the batch of cookies. He had taken note of how much effort Gertrude put into cooking dinner. A tray that complimented her dinner décor was the least he could do.
“Look at you, making friends, dear brother. Am I invited to the party, or have you forgotten about me alread
y?” Cecilia’s apparition seethed in a dark corner of the kitchen.
Ronald continued his search, finding one of his mother’s old silver platters in the cupboard, then began transferring the cookies from a plate onto it.
“How could I forget about you? You’re my twin sister. I think it would be best, though, if you stayed home, Cecilia. There’s no need for you to be there. Besides, I would really like to see these people from my own perspective.”
“Of course, you do, dear brother. You always did like to see things through rose-colored glasses.”
“I just want to eat dinner without having to anticipate hurting anyone . . . to be normal for a change. I’ll see you when I get back. I won’t be too long,” Ronald responded before heading out to leave.
“Have your fun, dear brother . . . no matter how short-lived it may be,” she threatened.
* * *
Back at May’s, Gertrude emerged with the casserole dish filled with goulash, realizing one of the baskets of garlic bread had already been consumed.
“Looks like you guys are pretty hungry,” she said, placing the dish at the center of the table just as the doorbell chimed.
“Who could that be?”
“It’s probably Ronald, Aunt May. He must have locked himself out when he left to get dessert.”
“We get dessert too? This is the best stakeout ever,” Tom blabbed.
Peggy’s mouth contorted—teeth clinched together upon hearing Tom’s revelation. Luckily, Gertrude was out of earshot when he’d let it slip.
“If you guys don’t pull it together, you’re out of here. The last thing we need is for them to find out what we’re up to before we get a chance to check this guy out,” Peggy bullied the bunch.
Gertrude rushed to open the door. She couldn’t wait to have dinner with Ronald. She had begun to warm up to the fact that Ronald would be having dinner with her and her aunt. It would give her a chance to prove to Aunt May that he wasn’t gay. Although she would have settled for a shopping buddy, having him as her knight in shining armor would be much better.
“Thank God you’re back,” she confessed as she flung the door open. “You must have locked yourself out.”
“What did I tell you? You should always lock your door,” Ronald preached as he crossed the threshold, balancing the tray of chocolate chip cookies in one hand.
“Yes, I remember. Always lock the door.” Gertrude closed, then locked it behind him. “Come on. I think the kids are getting rowdy. I love that platter, by the way,” she tugged at his arm, pulling him along with her.
“Lover boy is back,” Wilson blurted upon seeing Ronald enter the dining room behind Gertrude.
“I brought dessert.” Ronald placed the platter atop the table.
Without hesitation, Grady reached for one.
Gertrude stood with her mouth agape. “You’re not going to wait until after dinner?”
“I’m 78, not 7. You don’t have to worry about me spoiling my appetite. I’m eating everything you put in front of me,” he rebutted.
In complete agreement with what he had expressed, Tom and Wilson each grabbed a cookie as well.
“These are nice and soft.” Wilson bobbed in an expression of its deliciousness.
Ronald took a seat next to Gertrude. “I assume those are better for your teeth.”
Gertrude’s hand atop his knee told him his comment came off a bit harsh. But at that point, something about Wilson just rubbed him the wrong way. Both furnished each other an occasional glance of skepticism through slanted eyes.
“Let’s eat before the food gets cold.” Gertrude attempted cutting through the tension emitted by their silent study.
Regardless of the energy, they were all famished. Each began taking his turn, scooping a healthy helping of goulash from the casserole dish, then adding it to his plate.
“So, Ronald . . . What is it you do for a living? If you don’t mind me asking?” Peggy took her turn to interrogate him. He’d lived right across the street from her for decades, yet she knew little about his adult life.
“I’m a security guard.”
“So that means you own a gun?” Tom inquired between bites.
“My father was a cop. We had guns around the house before I was even born.”
“Then you should be all about obeying the law, right?” Wilson chimed in.
“Why do you ask? Are you intending on breaking it?” Ronald rebuffed his inquiry with his own line of questioning. By then, he’d surmised exactly what was going on. They were interviewing him for the job of Gertrude’s man. A title Ronald wasn’t quite sure he wanted, given his peculiar situation.
Tom chuckled, nearly choking on the lump of pasta in his throat. “Looks like he’s ready for us, Wilson.”
Wilson’s brows wrinkled. He was tempted to press on with his line of questioning, but something in him had relaxed at that point. A matter of seconds passed before he had begun to chuckle.
“What’s so damn funny?” Peggy scoffed, not finding the humor at the moment.
“Oh, calm down,” Grady finally spoke up, a smile as broad and goofy as could be.
“Yeah, take a chill pill,” Tom chuckled.
“Frankly, I don’t see anything funny.”
“You never do. You’ve had a stick up your butt since the eighties,” Tom exclaimed.
The old men laughed as they continued to enjoy their meal.
Gertrude leaned in toward Ronald, whispering her thoughts, “What has gotten into these guys?”
He shrugged his shoulders as if to say he had no clue when in reality, his reaction was far from the truth. The cookies were the culprit. THC levels in the batch of chocolate chip cookies did exactly what Ronald expected. They’d dropped their guards—all except Peggy and Aunt May, who’d yet to have dessert.
“I saw you two planting flowers earlier today. They look good. Did you plan on putting more across the street at your sister’s grave site?”
At that moment, all chuckles ceased. All eyes were on Ronald as they awaited his reply. He felt their eyes boring a hole into his psyche, surmising his next thoughts.
“Memorial,” he said before taking a bite of his goulash.
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand what you mean.”
“It’s a memorial, not a grave site. My sister is buried at Sacred Heart of Saint Mary’s.”
“Oh, do you plan on putting more flowers around her memorial? I saw you digging out there earlier this week. Late-night gardening, I assume?” Peggy’s mouth twitched, anticipating either Ronald’s complete blowup or breakdown.
He sat back in his chair, then let out a short sigh, having grown tired of Peggy’s line of questioning. “Sometimes, it’s the only time I have to get things done. Going to college and working are two full-time jobs that are time-consuming,” he replied, playing it cool.
By that time, Aunt May figured Ronald could use a break. “How did your first day of school go, Gertrude?” she asked, shifting the focus from her niece’s visibly dismayed guest.
“It was wonderful, actually. We got to campus an hour early, and Ronald showed me around. Being able to get to all my classes with ease was a load off my mind. No one wants to be late on the first day. It becomes a blemish on your reputation from the very start. Thankfully, I had Ronald, who was nice enough to help me out.” Her hand caressed his thigh in appreciation of what he’d done for her.
The embrace did nothing to alter his now-soured mood. Every time Ronald and Peggy locked eyes, you could see a look of disgust oozing from each of them.
“Well, I, for one, would like to say, thank you, Gertrude. This is, hands down, the best goulash I’ve ever tasted. I’d love to get an invite again. Hopefully, we haven’t been too much of a burden. We kinda crashed your date.” Grady continued munching on his plate of vittles.
Gertrude smiled at the fact that Grady referred to her and Ronald’s dinner plans as a date. Wishful thinking kept her from clearing up the misunderstanding. “You’re very we
lcome. It was no bother at all. Right, Ronald?”
“Nah. Not at all,” he responded in the driest of tones.
Gertrude could tell at that point something was amiss. Ronald’s demeanor had changed completely. She worried they had ruined things for her.
“Ronald’s going to show me around the mall this weekend. We’ll have plenty of time to get acquainted, right, Ronald?”
He turned to look her in the eyes, his many other obligations coming to the forefront of his thoughts. “This weekend?”
Don’t back out on me now, she thought. “I thought you said it would be okay?” she asked, noticing a hint of uncertainty in his tone.
Ronald couldn’t say no. Gertrude’s big brown, inviting eyes prompted him to cave under her will. “This weekend sounds great, Gertrude. How about Saturday? I have some things to take care of tomorrow.”
“Saturday it is,” she blushed, brandishing the brightest of smiles.
“Sounds like a gay old time,” Tom mumbled, his cheeks stuffed with dinner.
Grady chuckled, being the only one who’d heard the comment.
Not seeing the humor in the situation, Peggy shot the two of them an evil glare—their chuckles becoming even more muffled under the pressure of her stare. “I’ve been meaning to take a trip to the mall. I could use some new clothes. I’ve been wearing these old garments for over a decade now,” she said, turning her attention to Gertrude and Ronald.
Peggy’s comment caused Gertrude’s smile to wane. She didn’t want anyone tagging along. The gang of elderly had already interrupted the dinner she’d planned. Within seconds, Ronald relieved the discord she harbored. Peggy tagging along was out of the question as far as he was concerned. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
“Would you two mind if I tagged along?” Peggy finally allowed the dreaded question to leave her lips.
“I would,” Ronald spoke up without hesitation.
Gertrude scrambled to clean up his blatant response. “It’s just that we have other things planned as well. Maybe next time, Peggy.”
“I’ll go, as long as you’re driving. I’ve got some perks club coupons from JC Penney I could use,” Aunt May chimed in cushioning the blow.
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