Whiskey Straight Up

by Nina Wright

  “Money that Gribble preferred to spend on his gambling habit, I’m sure.”

  Jenx nodded. “The night McKondin harassed you at Vestige, Gribble was following him. Mindy, wearing her new ‘gift’ coat, went along for the ride. She’d been drinking shots. Gribble left her in the car with her bottle and took off on foot after McKondin. Gribble said he planned to show McKondin he had a knife and ‘scare’ him into leaving town.”

  “Oh yeah,” I said. “That would work.”

  “The State Police figure the kid was so preoccupied talking to you on his cell phone that Gribble was able to follow him. Then you slowed McKondin down with your fancy footwork, and Gribble used his knife to finish him off. Or so he thought. When Gribble got back to the car, Mindy was dead—choked on her own vomit. Gribble must have panicked and dumped her body in your woods. Cassina’s credit card fell out of her pocket.”

  I took a moment to digest Jenx’s account. Then I said, “I know the rest of the story: The next morning, Gribble grabbed Chester from Bibi and started up the coast. A few hours after that, Bibi walked into my unlocked home and out again with Avery’s twins.”

  Suddenly my door chimes rang. I jumped as if I’d just heard gunfire.

  “Easy, Whiskey,” Jenx said. “You’re expecting company, remember?”

  “Not this early!” I blurted. “I’ve got to boil water!”

  Jenx gave me the kind of look usually reserved for the drunk and disorderly. She said, “How about you answer the door, and I’ll get the water started?”

  “You can do that?” I asked, incredulous. “You can boil water?”

  “Answer the damn door.”

  I did. Nash Grant was standing there, smelling of citrus and spice and holding an oversized bouquet of yellow roses.

  “Hi, Whiskey,” he said in his buttery Biloxi voice. “Thanks so much for inviting me.”

  I summoned the presence of mind to step aside so that he could enter. Who cared if the man was an hour early when he smelled so good and brought a gift like that?

  Before I could speak, Nash continued, “I want to thank you for something else, too. This whole Redemption Dinner theme has started me thinking. For the sake of the twins, I’ve decided that Avery and I should give our relationship another try. She agrees.”

  Redemption Dinner, my ass! That was Roy Vickers’s label, not mine. I had been hoping to get laid at the end of the evening—by the very man who had just announced he was here to court my stepdaughter.

  “Did you know that yellow roses are Avery’s favorite?” Nash added. “They bring out the highlights in her hair.”

  “Not to mention the sallowness of her skin.”

  I’d found my voice, and it wasn’t pretty.

  “Of course, if you like, we can also use this as a centerpiece,” Nash offered.

  “No, really, I couldn’t. Why don’t you go on upstairs and present them to Avery? Then you can enjoy her delightful company for a whole hour . . . while I prepare dinner.”

  I knew I was wearing one of those pasted-on smiles because my face hurt. So did my heart, but that was a familiar sensation. Suddenly I missed Leo more than I had in weeks. As I watched Nash and his roses head upstairs toward Avery, my eyes brimmed with tears.

  The door chimes rang again.

  “Oh for god’s sake!” I moaned. “The invitation said seven-thirty!”

  I flung open the front door. On my porch stood Chester, Roy Vickers, and Evelyn Huffenbach. Mrs. Huffenbach wasn’t wearing fur, but she was wearing oven mitts and holding a covered roaster pan.

  “I know we’re an hour early, Whiskey,” Roy began, “but we want to share our joy with you. You’re looking upon the very picture of redemption!”

  “That’s nice, Roy,” I said, “but all I wanted was spaghetti.” And some sex. I didn’t say the last part out loud even though I meant it.

  “Can we come in?” Chester asked. “It’s kind of cold out here, and my grandma’s holding a turkey.”

  Of course I let them in although, technically, two out of the three were gate-crashers. I hadn’t invited either Chester or Evelyn, but if they’d brought their own turkey, I supposed they were welcome. Hell, Nash had brought flowers for Avery, and I’d let him in.

  “Whiskey, guess what? Roy’s my grandpa!” Chester beamed up at me, the light of my foyer chandelier bouncing off his round glasses. “Grandma Evelyn told us.”

  “You knew?” I asked Mrs. Huffenbach.

  “Oh, yes,” she said. “Bibi told me Roy’s name between contractions when she was giving birth. I think she thought she might die. We never spoke of it again, and I never told my late husband.”

  “Whiskey’s a widow, too,” Chester informed his grandma. “So you have something else in common, besides me and Grandpa Roy.”

  I looked from Chester to Evelyn and back to Chester. “Does your mother know . . . about Grandpa Roy?”

  Chester nodded excitedly. “Grandma Evelyn just told her. She’s with Noonan now. Getting a vibration infusion.”

  Jenx appeared with pot holders and took the roaster pan from Evelyn.

  “When you’re ready, Whiskey, I’d like to see you in the kitchen,” the police chief said.

  I trailed after her like a scolded child. She was boiling water.

  “Did you use your . . . magnetic powers to do that?” I asked respectfully.

  “I turned on the burner,” Jenx said. “It’s too early to cook your pasta, but this is to show you how it’s done.” She studied me. “I overheard your conversation. You found out the hard way about Nash and Avery.”

  “You already knew?” I gasped.

  “The whole town knows they’re giving it a second shot. Be happy for them. It won’t work, but at least they will have made the effort—for the twins’ sake.”

  I brightened. “You’re right. I still have a chance with Nash!”

  “Sure,” Jenx said mildly. “But Magnet Springs is betting you’ll end up with Jeb.”

  Abra and Prince Harry chose that moment to scramble in through the doggie door, their snowy paws sliding across my clean floor. They made a beeline to Jenx, who patted their shiny heads.

  “Life’s full of surprises, Whiskey,” she remarked. “Keep learning new tricks.”

  I had never expected to care deeply about somebody else’s kids. Yet Chester, Leah and Leo were changing my life. And I didn’t resent it . . . too much. Even Prince Harry had his charms.

  “I’ll keep learning,” I told Jenx.

  She said, “Spaghetti’s a good place to start.”