Don't Make Me Choose Between You and My Shoes Read Free Page B

keyed in her home number.
    â€œCelina, honey,” her grandmother said when Celina told her about their guest, “you know I don’t mind you asking Mr. Mansfield for supper. Or any of your friends. It’s just that you should have given me more time.”
    Granny Dee sounded anxious and out of breath. Celina pictured her scurrying about, wiping imaginary dust from the mantel. She knew the invitation posed no imposition on her grandmother, who had recently lost her job of thirty years as teller in the town’s only bank. The bank had closed its doors forever. Now Granny Dee cleaned her home, cooked and gardened.
    â€œGranny Dee, it’s only eleven o’clock. He isn’t coming over until seven. That’s eight hours. What in the world do you need to do that would take more than eight hours?”
    â€œI don’t have anything laid out of the freezer, my hair is a mess and the house needs a good cleaning.”
    Celina lowered her voice. “Granny, Dewey lives in a trailer with two old dogs. He eats pork and beans with Fritos every day for lunch. I’ll bet he’s lucky to get one home-cookedmeal a year, on Christmas. But if you want me to tell him it’s not a good time—”
    â€œNo, no. That isn’t necessary. I’ll just throw something together.”
    Celina relaxed into a big smile. Granny Dee never “threw” anything together. By seven o’clock, the dining table would be loaded with delicious home cooking that she would serve with the flair of a four-star restaurant. The house would be spotless and Granny Dee would be beautiful. Celina had figured out long ago that for her grandmother, the protestation was almost as much fun as the preparation and the presentation.
    â€œWhen I get home, I’ll help,” Celina promised.
    â€œIs Sam coming, too?”
    â€œNo, not this evening.” The last thing Celina wanted was Sam’s voice of reason and good sense interfering with her conversation with her grandmother.
    The remainder of Celina’s day passed briskly. Dime Box’s only beauty salon had started a book club. Each member was to read and report on a different book every Saturday evening. Half a dozen women had been in and out of the library picking up books—except that in Dime Box no one ever simply came in and went out. Gossip was exchanged, weather was discussed and family photos were shown.
    Someone usually had a son, nephew or grandson he or she wanted Celina to meet. In the past, she had accepted a few of those “fix-ups,” but nowadays, she politely declined. The men had never lived up to their loved ones’ hype, and it wastoo awkward explaining later why she and the fix-up weren’t becoming a couple.
    Finding heroes in books had always been less complicated. Living vicariously through the pages had been enough. But no longer. She needed a life, she needed an adventure. Dear God, she needed something.
    At five o’clock, she logged off her computer, grabbed her purse and started for the door. She had walked only a couple of steps when her cell phone rang. A glance at caller ID brought an involuntary sigh. Sam. She didn’t know if she was ready for a conversation with him. She was excited about a trip to New York, but if anyone could throw cold water on her enthusiasm, it would be Sam.
    They almost always had a weekend outing together, so she couldn’t just disappear for a week. She wished she could, but she wasn’t brought up that way. She had to tell him her plans. She returned to her chair and flipped open the phone. “Hi, Sam.”
    â€œHey. Have you got dinner plans?”
    â€œGranny Dee and I are entertaining Dewey this evening at the house.”
    â€œDewey. You mean the old guy who owns the feed store?”
    A ripple of annoyance brought a frown to her brow. “He isn’t old,” she whispered, lest Dewey hear her. “He’s Granny Dee’s