Lily White Lies(70)

I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and gave her a squeeze. “And that’s why I like you so much.”

She lowered her head before looking at me, a smile slowly stretching across her face. “Thank you.”

I turned her to face me. “Seriously, thank you for everything. This past weekend was the greatest weekend of my life, even without the sex.”

“I really am trying to understand that,” she joked, “but, you’re welcome. I enjoyed doing it.”

We said our goodbye’s and as I made my way through the busy patio, I spotted a woman I had seen here many times before, only this time she made more of an impression since I thought I knew who she was.

Her attire was businesslike but stylish, her hair done in an upswept fashion that made her facial features appear to be more petite than they actually were. If I had to describe her in a word, that word would be ‘classy’.

Without giving it much thought, I made my way over to where she was giving instructions to several employees. When the waiters left with their orders, she turned in my direction and my nearness caused her to step back slightly.

“May I help you?” Her demeanor was cheerful, her smile genuine.

“I don’t know... I was just wondering, are you the owner?”

“Yes, I am.” She extended her hand. “Sally Ellis, how can I help you?”

Suddenly questioning my reason for approaching her, I shook her hand, and bashfully replied, “Oh, I don’t want anything, I’m... well, I’m a friend of your sons... of Con’s. He mentioned that you owned Sal’s and my friends and I eat here often so I... I just thought I’d say hello. That’s all.”

She looked at me with an inquisitive eye. “A friend, huh?” She motioned to a table as she pulled out a chair. “Con’s friends wouldn’t come in and make it a point to meet me. You must be Meg.”

She laughed at my look of complete surprise.

“Con told me about you a couple of weeks ago, but he pointed you out when you were having breakfast with your friends this morning.”

“This morning? He was here?”

“Yes, he stopped in. He said that he would have said hello to you,” a crease formed in her forehead, “but he didn’t want to be a lone buttercup... whatever that means.”

I shook my head, leaving it a private joke.

“You have quite a son; I’ll bet you’re very proud of him.”

She nodded with zest. “I am, especially considering his genetic influences. Do you know that when he comes in for dinner, he insists on paying for his meal and he will never accept money when he helps me out?” I saw a mothers’ pride shine brightly in her eyes, when she said, “He is my proudest moment.”

“He speaks very highly of you.”

“Of you, also.”

I suddenly realized that I wasn’t aware of how much he had told her and I felt embarrassed.

“How much has he told you about me?”

“Enough. I know who you are, what you do—which reminds me, I would like to talk to you about servicing my café—and... How he feels about you.”

“I have to ask, do you have a problem with me because of who my family is?”

She shrugged. “Why? Should I?”

I hesitated for several seconds, trying to form my thoughts into sensible words. “Well, there’s been some confusion as to what happened all those years ago, but to the best of my knowledge, my grandfather killed your husband, so I would completely understand if you were less than gracious toward me.”

She replied, “You know, Con mentioned that and I don’t know where that story came from. My mother-in-law killed my ex-husband and that’s all there is to it. I think you might want to talk to your grandparents about the confusion though. I can’t clear that up for you.”

“I plan on doing exactly that...”

She cut me off. “And, Con tells me that you’re excited over the prospect of meeting Joker.” With a disapproving stare, her voice raised a little, as she asked. “Are you crazy? Trust me; you want to stay as far away from that man as you possibly can.”

Taken aback by her outspokenness, I stammered, “It’s just hard to believe that he’s as bad as what everyone says. There has to be something nice about him.”

She offered a mock smile, and stated, “The nicest part of him died almost two weeks ago.”

“Gayle?”

She nodded. “She was the sweetest woman I ever knew. Only God above knows what she ever saw in that man.”

“But you said she killed her own son?”

“That’s right.” Lifting herself slightly off her chair, she looked over my shoulder, and yelled, “Robbie! Robbie, please don’t mix the crushed ice with the cubes.” Returning her attention to me, she apologized, “New waiters, I’m sorry; I better take care of that.” Standing, she added, “It was very nice meeting you, Meg, and I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other. As far as the stories you’ve heard, you should really talk to your grandparents. It’s their place to set things straight.”