I knew it would disappoint Henry, but I wasn’t surprised.
“C’ndee’s the perfect suspect,” I said.
“Well, this is just horrible, Henry.” A frown wrinkled Mama’s brow. “If C’ndee gets tossed into the slammer, what am I supposed to do about food? We can’t order supper in a sack from the Burger King for a hundred-and-fifty wedding guests.”
“Good Lord, no!” Henry said.
“By the way, Henry, that’s the same wedding Mama was all set to cancel a half-hour before you got here,” I said.
He raised his brows. “You were calling off the wedding?”
Mama waved her hand dismissively. “Not really.”
Maddie snorted. Marty’s eyes went wide. I shrugged at my sisters.
“Well, I was upset. But I’ve given it a little thought.” She held out her hand, examining her engagement rock. “I’m not getting any younger, girls. This may be my last chance for happiness.”
We waited.
“Now,” Mama continued, “all we have to do is make sure my fiancé’s not a cheater and my caterer’s not a killer.”
A coffee vending machine in the breezeway gulped my quarters. Choosing the buttons for cream and sugar, I waited impatiently for my order to be processed.
I’d just returned from a quick circuit of the park and a morning check on the animals. I was desperate for caffeine, and our office coffeemaker was still on the fritz.
Maybe I’d go small appliance shopping on Saturday now that the wedding was off. No, wait. It was on again. I wondered how many times that would change in the two days remaining before Mama’s Special Day.
Whir. Clunk. No cup; no coffee; no coins returned.
Despite a bad feeling about my odds, I fed more money into the slot. Beep. Whir. Splash. The machine spit out a soupy brown liquid, minus the cup. There went my second seventy-five cents, dribbling down a silver drain that seemed to grin at me.
Before I returned to the office, I aimed my work boot and added a kick to the smack I’d just given the coffee machine. It resisted my persuasive efforts.
“We’ve got to call for service on that stupid machine again …” I had a foot through the door when a tantalizing aroma stopped me where I stood.
Rhonda saluted me with a take-out cup. “Look what Carlos brought!” Her eyes rolled up in ecstasy as she sipped.
My hand flew to smooth my hair. I always claim I didn’t inherit an ounce of Mama’s vanity, but that’s not strictly true.
Rhonda swallowed and whispered, “You look fine. Pinch your cheeks for some color. And straighten your shirt.”
Tucking in my T-shirt, I whispered back, “Where is he?”
“Men’s room. Café con leche is on your desk.”
I nearly spilled the coffee with milk when I spotted what was sitting right next to the cup. A perfect red rose in a glass vase. I raised my eyebrows at Rhonda.
“He didn’t say. I didn’t ask.”
Carlos had never struck me as the red rose type. My mind returned to last summer when Jeb Ennis had carried daisies to me here at the park. I hoped this day ended better than that one had.
I was staring at the rose, lost in my memories, when I heard Carlos’ voice beside me. “Do you like it?”
I jumped, snatched back to the present. To Carlos. I leaned to sniff the flower. “I love it. It’s beautiful.”
From her desk across the room, Rhonda nodded happily.
“What’s your angle?” I asked him, and watched as my boss’s encouraging smile turned into a frown.
Carlos’s face darkened, too. “I don’t have an angle, Mace. I just thought it might cheer the place up.”
My gaze followed his around our workspace, with its walls painted institutional tan. A mountain of files towered in a corner. A jumble of feathers, bones, and animal skulls I was cataloguing for a wildlife exhibit covered the top of a long folding table. An oversized events calendar hung crookedly from the back wall. Large windows were a sole saving grace, allowing us to see out to the trees and sky beyond.
I gave him a smile: “I apologize. The rose is exactly the thing for this mess. Thanks.”
No words slipped from the locked vault behind his lips.
I saluted him with the cup. “This couldn’t have come at a better time, either. Gracias.”
His stiff posture relaxed, just a bit. He waved his hand. “De nada.”
Behind his back, Rhonda mimed wiping sweat off her brow.
“Do you think we could take a few minutes outside?” he asked.
Rhonda waggled her eyebrows suggestively. I turned my head so I wouldn’t laugh. I was already treading on slippery ground with Carlos.
“Sure,” I said, and led the way to the door.
“Don’t forget to feed Ollie ’til he’s stuffed. I don’t want another near miss with a furry creature when the kids come to visit today,” Rhonda called after us.
“Ollie’s never full, Rhonda. He’s an opportunistic eater, like my sister, Maddie.”
Rhonda said, “You should stick around to watch Mace feed the alligator, Carlos. He chomps whole raw chickens like canapés. He has one forbidding set of jaws.”
“So the bite on Mace’s gator is pretty nasty, huh?” Carlos smirked.
“Fearsome.” She returned his grin.
“Kind of like someone else at the park, someone with a big mouth and a mean bite?”
I resented his implication. My bite wasn’t that mean.
“Absolutely!” Rhonda said. “Just remember, when that other someone snaps at you, she doesn’t mean you any harm. Unlike Ollie, she won’t kill you if you get too close.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
As the two of them high-fived, I held the door. “After you, Mr. Comedy Central.”
He bowed and stepped through. I shot Rhonda an “I’ll deal with you later” look over my shoulder. She shook a long, elegant finger at me.
As we settled ourselves onto the wooden bench in the breezeway, my mind returned again to the day that Jeb had brought me the daisies. We’d sat together right here. I could almost feel the hot patch of skin where our thighs had touched. At least they’d touched until Carlos arrived, and I jumped away from Jeb like I’d gotten an electrical shock.
Was I playing the same game again? Carrying on and flirting, this time with Tony Ciancio, to avoid taking the relationship with Carlos to the next level? I stared into the trees, as if I could find my answer written on the branches and leaves.
“Peso for your thoughts, Mace.”
Carlos was staring at me. My face burned. Could he tell how confused I was? When I didn’t answer, he asked, “How’s the wedding planning coming? Everybody’s dresses fit?”
I looked at him sideways. The last time he referred to the wedding, he’d called it stupid. And now he wanted dress details? That plus the rose added up to strange.
“What?” he asked.
“You know Mama would love to have you at the wedding. But you’ve shown zero interest before now. Even Sal runs the other way when wedding talk comes up, and he’s the groom.”
He looked into my eyes. “I’m coming to the wedding. I care about you, Mace. So of course I care about your mother, too.”