“
Ramirez leaned in close. “Just so you know, this more than makes up for dinner at my mom’s.”
No kidding.
Actually Ramirez had been a pretty good sport about this whole thing, sitting all the way through the ceremony, even when my Irish Catholic Grandmother started saying her rosary halfway through the I-do’s, and even when every one of my cousins, aunts, uncles, and members of my mother’s Internet chat groups insisted on meeting Maddie’s New Guy. All things considered, Bad Cop was turning out to be an okay date.
We were seated at one of the ten round tables in the Garden Grande’s “great hall” (think Elk’s lodge decor – peeling wood toned vinyl walls and grade school cafeteria linoleum). Molly the Breeder sat across from me with her husband, Stan. Dana and an exhausted looking No Neck Guy were flapping their wings on the dance floor, and Ramirez was sitting on my left. Beside him sat my Irish Catholic Grandmother, back straight, lips pinched into a tight line, eyes narrow and shrewd, flicking between Ramirez’s tell-tale stubble and my naked left finger.
“Maddison, are you going to mass tomorrow morning?” she asked, her steely blue eyes squinting up at me. (Despite my petite status, my grandmother makes me look like a giant, topping out at just under 4’11”.)
“Of course, Grandmother.” I figured this didn’t really count as a lie because it was for a good cause. If my grandmother thought I didn’t go to mass, she might have a heart attack and die here on the spot. So, really, I was saving her life with this lie. Very noble, when you look at it that way.
“How about the new guy?” She gestured to Ramirez as if he weren’t there. “Does he go to mass?”
“Uh…” I was stumped.
“My family goes to St. John Vianney,” Ramirez cut in.
He was Catholic? Ohmigod. I think my grandmother might just die a happy woman. Maddie had actually brought home a good Catholic boy. Well, a Catholic boy at any rate. The jury was still out on the good part.
My grandmother’s eyes narrowed like a cat’s. “St. John Vianney? Do you know Father Michael?” She was testing him.
“I do. In fact I worked with him last year to establish an after school program to keep teens away from crime. I’ll tell him you’ve been asking after him.”
Grandmother’s wrinkles parted in a small smile, nodding, and I had a sneaking suspicion mentally booking the St. Mark’s chapel for the Springer-Ramirez wedding.
Ramirez leaned in close. “I think granny likes me.” Then he winked at me and I felt his hand rest on my knee.
I jumped. I wasn’t entirely sure if Ramirez was here as my ride, my date, or to keep me under surveillance in case Richard tried to contact me. Granted, I’d just spent the night drooling on his chest. And he
But with the vodka slowly seeping out of my system, reality was rearing her ugly head again. And in reality, Ramirez was on a case, Richard was on the lam, and I was somehow stuck in the middle, not sure whose side to be on.
I was pretty sure I now hated Richard. It was hard not to hate a man who married a Disney character. But somehow I wasn’t ready to totally write him off either. At least, not without hearing his side of the story. Even without taking into account my late factor, Richard and I had a history together. And I wasn’t quite ready to throw that all away. The whole situation still left me with a squishy sensation in my stomach, like that time in second grade when I’d eaten a bad burrito and done one too many flips around the monkey bars.
But I didn’t move Ramirez’s hand.
“Wasn’t it a lovely ceremony?” Molly piped in.
Grandmother snorted. “No priest. Civilized people get married in a church with a priest, not on some lawn.” She turned to Ramirez. “Molly got married at St. Mark’s.
Ramirez gave me the raised eyebrow. I pretended to find an interesting piece of lint on the Purple People Eater.
“Our wedding was so beautiful,” Molly went on. “We had the traditional white roses everywhere, and my gown was this white, lace creation that had this long, lovely train that- Stan, get your son, he’s climbing on the podium again. Anyway, the train went on for miles. I had to have a train bearer, can you believe it? I felt just like a princess and- Stan, get him, he’s going to pull the whole thing over! What was I saying? Oh, yes, St. Mark’s. Well, it was just a lovely ceremony. You have to get Father Jacobs to do your wedding, he’s just the most- Stan, I swear if you feed that boy any more cake I’m going to castrate you! Get him down from there, now! Anyway, where was I?”
I stared, my jaw hanging open like a cartoon. I think I was having a terrible glimpse into my future. Like the ghost of pregnancy hormones yet to come. I grabbed my water glass and took a big gulp, trying to fend off hysteria, and made a mental note to take that test when I got home.
Stan mumbled something that sounded like “four more months of this,” before leaving the table to wrangle his cake eating monsters.
“Molly has three children already,” Grandmother informed Ramirez. “If you want a big family, you’ll have to start soon. Maddie’s not getting any younger, you know.”
I choked on the water, making coughing sounds as I tried not to spew it across the table.
Ramirez looked like he was trying hard not to laugh. “We’ll get right on that.” He flashed Grandma a smile that was all teeth and I felt his fingers curl around my knee.
I took another sip of water.
“I’m glad to hear that.” In fact, Grandmother looked about as pleased as when Molly had promised she’d
Great. My mom’s bouquet not even cold yet and already Grandmother was trying to marry me off with a corral full of cake eating, podium toppling monsters of my own. I tried to think of a tactful way of saying Ramirez was just my ride.
My ride who kept squeezing my knee under the table.
Before I could sort that one out, my cell phone rang. Grandmother gave me a stern look that obviously said cell phones were on the
“Excuse me,” I said, grabbing my phone and stepping away from the table. The readout was an 818 area code I didn’t recognize.
“Hello?” I answered, putting a hand over my other ear to block out the strains of the chicken dance.
“Hi. I’m returning a call from Maddie Springer?”
“This is Maddie?”
“This is Andi Jameson.”
My ears perked up. Mistress number two.
“Yes, thanks for calling me back. I actually wanted to ask you a of couple questions about Devon Greenway.”
Andi was quiet on the other end.
“You did know him, right?”
“Yes,” she said hesitantly. “Who did you say you were again?”
I decided to stick with the story I’d told Bunny. “I’m with the
Andi didn’t respond. But, she didn’t hang up either, so I plowed ahead. “From what I understand, you used to date Mr. Greenway?”
“Listen, I don’t know if I feel comfortable talking about this to the press.”
Shit. I bit my lip, trying to think fast. Think like a used car salesman.
“Okay, here’s the deal. I’m not really with the press. I, uh, I dated Greenway too, and I was just trying to find out how many other women he screwed over by failing to mention he was married.” Okay, a lie. But the anger about having a boyfriend forgetting to mention his marriage was real.
And it seemed to hit home.
“God, you too?” Andi sighed into the phone. “Would you believe I didn’t even find out about it until I saw his wife’s body on the news. What a cheating scum.”
