Page 141 of Chasing Headlines
Breslin rolled his eyes, sighed, and caught me looking at him. I glanced away.
“Take him in hand, and give him a solid spit and polish.”
He rubbed a hand over his mouth as he ducked his head.
I coughed. “Metaphorically speaking. I hope.”
Twinkling eyes met my gaze. He held up four fingers, then folded one away. I scowled and pretended to scratch at my temple with my middle finger. I returned my focus to my tea, but not before I got caught in Dotty's knowing stare.
Her lips curved into a small, impish grin. “I’ve changed my mind.” She clapped her hands together. “I would love for you to stay for supper. I can answer all of your questions, Olivia, dear.”
A cold, deep pit opened in my abdomen. I swallowed. “Oh, but I. I'm not?—”
“Cooper darling, please bring two of the best mystery meat dishes on the menu. And do hurry up, dear. My guest looks downright famished.”
I broke out into a cold sweat. I had no idea what had just changed in Dotty’s mind, but she had a look like a cat ready to feast on a downed canary.
I glanced at Breslin’s dark features and wondered which of us was missing feathers.
The mystery meat surprise was about as appetizing as high school cafeteria food. But didn’t seem any worse than that. After dropping off our meals, Coop went back to his front desk guard post, I assumed. I didn’t ask. I had an assignment, and I was beginning to suspect the old lady was watching me . . . for some inexplicable reason.
She answered my questions while I recorded our session. And, proving Coop’s assertions to be more truthful than she was—Dotty's stories and recollections were sharp-witted and entertaining. But it wasn’t to be kept up for an extended time. She quite obviously began to tire . . . not too long after we finished dinner and had the plates taken away.
Some other orderly stopped in about the time she expressed the desire to retire for the evening. I waved him away, following her to her bedroom. A pale blue knitted blanket with lace-like edges draped over the foot of the bed. “Did you make this?”
She shook her head. “My niece made it for me.”
“It’s very pretty. I’m always amazed by people with that sort of talent. It’s not in my genetic code.”
She chuckled. “Mine either. I’m the worst at being old. I don’t quilt or crochet. Bingo is terribly dull, and don’t get me started on daytime television.”
“Well, if you can do it, then there's hope I might be able to manage after all.”
“And what alternative is there?” She shook her head. “Checking out early doesn’t seem your style.” I wrapped the blanket around her shoulders.
“Although you do seem a bit, well . . . not quite the same as you did the other day.”
“Me? Oh.” I held my breath and offered a small smile. “Nothing to worry about. I’m . . .”Worried and anxious.“Tough. Definitely not the type to—”Admit when I’m drowning.“Stay down. Not for long, anyway.”
“I think you mentioned last time . . . you don’t have a good relationship with your mother.”
“Ah, it’s not bad. Just . . . not close.”
“Yeah, Cooper lost his mother last year.” She clucked her tongue. “Poor kid.”
Obvious much?“I’m beginning to see what he sees. You can just say it. You don’t have to play games.”
“I think you have a lot in common. And I’ll leave it there because I get the impression . . . you’re not in the right place in your life to be in a serious relationship.”
“Serious? Coop? Pbbft. Clearly I didn’t get the good tea. What’d they put in yours?”
She frowned. “You don’t know him as well as you think, then.”
“Oh, no, let’s be clear: I don’t know him at all. That’s how he wants it. And that’s how things will stay.”
“It was a lovely visit.” She patted my hand. “Perhaps you’ll come by again, even if there’s no interview next time, Olivia. You’re always welcome.”
I nodded and moved hair behind her ear. “I'll be here.” I blinked back the warmth in my eyes. “Count on it.”