The Older Woman

The Older Woman by Cheryl Reavis Read Free Book Online Page B

Book: The Older Woman by Cheryl Reavis Read Free Book Online
Authors: Cheryl Reavis
in.”

    She gave a quiet sigh, but she didn’t turn around to look. Doyle wondered idly if she knew the guy would be coming here and that was the reason she’d picked this particular place.

    No, he decided. Her whole demeanor had changed. If anything, she had on her
    “lock and load” face. She didn’t know he’d be here.

    Doyle was going to ask if she wanted to cut and run, but the steaks came, and the conversation switched to that. When it came to New York strips and onions, the cook in this place really knew how to shine. Meehan concentrated on her food, looking up from time to time to talk to him. Maybe she was having to work at it, but if she tried to locate the boyfriend’s whereabouts, he didn’t see her do it.

    When they were nearly finished eating, he ordered two pieces of French apple pie to go. After the waitress had gone, he realized that Meehan was looking at him.
    “What?”

    “Nothing. I was just wondering where you were going to put all that pie.”

    “One of them is for Mrs. Bee,” he said. “She came up with some outstanding transportation for this operation. She ought to get a little something out of it.”

    “To Mrs. Bee,” Meehan said, lifting her beer mug.

    “And those like her!” he countered, lifting his own mug.

    “And damn few of them left!” they said together, laughing.

    Well, check this out, he thought suddenly. He was having a good time here—
    dumped and heartbroken or not. Everything was great. The food. The beer. The music. Meehan.

    Somebody had punched up a real “oldie goldie” on the jukebox. The sing-along table in the far corner had quieted down, but one nearby started up. A bunch of old guys, ex-paratroopers from the sound of them—Vietnam vets, maybe—and boy, were they ready to take up the slack.

    One of them slid his chair back from the table—then kept sliding in their direction.

    “Hey, Sweet Darlin’,” he said to Meehan in keeping with the spirit of the song playing in the background, and Doyle braced himself to have to conk some pushy old guy over the head with his cane, brother soldier or not.

    “Hey, Jake,” she said. “How’s it going?”

    “I’m good as new. Come on—let me show you. What do you say you and me take a turn out on the floor? Can I borrow your lady, son?” he asked Doyle without giving Meehan a chance to answer.

    “I don’t think they allow dancing, Jake,” Meehan said, laughing.

    “Don’t worry. The song will be over before the MPs get here—okay?” he said, looking at Doyle.

    “Just make sure you bring her back, sir,” Doyle said.

    Meehan gave him a pointed, thanks-a-lot look, but she got up. The spontaneous dancing precipitated a round of applause. What Jake lacked in ability he made up for in enthusiasm—much to the approval of his buddies at the table, if not the entire restaurant.

    Doyle kept his eyes on Meehan. She knew how to do this kind of dancing and she looked really fine. She was enjoying herself, too, he decided, regardless of where bagel boy might be at the moment. Watching, Doyle hoped. So he could see what he’d been dumb enough to turn loose.

    When the song ended, Jake brought Meehan back to the table, delivering her into her chair and giving her a kiss on the cheek. To Doyle he offered a smart salute and left.

    “Nice moves,” Doyle said to Meehan.

    She laughed. “Oh, sure. I haven’t had an evening this wild since I was in nursing school.”

    “‘Wild’ is good sometimes,” he said, waxing philosophical just for her benefit.
    “Trust me.”

    “Are you ready to go?” she asked, because the waitress was bringing the boxes of pie.

    “I’m ready,” he said, sending the money for the meal and the tip with the waitress on her little payment tray. He let Meehan carry the pie, and he didn’t get up out of his chair as smoothly as he’d hoped. His legs were killing him, and he had to work hard to hide it.

    “Shoulder,” Meehan said, when they’d gone a few

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