“I actually agree with that,” Eli said.
Iris smiled. “Neither of you needs to worry. I’m not planning to bother Great-Aunt Gertie, even if she walks among us.” With that, she grabbed her keys from the bowl on the table near the front door. “I’m off to pick up some cheap couch covers I found online. Only forty minutes away!”
Both he and Henry Dale hurried after her. Henry Dale objected first. “You can’t just randomly go to some stranger’s house! There’s no telling what’ll happen.”
“I don’t need a bodyguard,” she said, but her steps slowed, as if she was considering the validity of their concern.
“Eh, actually I agree with Henry Dale,” Eli put in. “There have been killers who used online ads to—”
“I know that. But with couch covers…？”
Henry Dale scowled, his white brows contracting. “Could be bait. Don’t risk it.”
She sighed, but Eli noticed that her eyes twinkled a bit, as if she might be enjoying how protective they both were. “Fine, put your shoes on. We’re all going on a mini road trip.”
Eli complied right away, while Henry Dale’s frown didn’t abate. “Why do I have to be the third wheel? This guy can protect you.”
“No way,” Iris said. “We need your stern energy, and I’m stopping for lunch after.”
Though Henry Dale mumbled complaints all the way to the kitchen and back, Eli could tell that the old man was secretly glad to be included. Outside, he got in the back of Iris’s Sentra, letting Henry Dale ride shotgun. Iris turned the radio on and found an oldies station, again likely for Henry Dale.
“Bunch of nonsense,” the older man muttered.
“You love it,” Iris said. “Anyway, I just wanted to say I’m sorry for being nosy the other day. I hope we’re okay.”
“Are you worried about my feelings?” Henry Dale asked in an incredulous tone.
“Well, yeah,” Iris said, as if that should be obvious.
God, she’s sweet.
Henry Dale cleared his throat. “Hmm. Well, I’m fine. And…if you must know, I never wanted a wife. Or a husband. I never wanted to be kissing anybody, though I had some wonderful friends back in the day. They’ve all since passed on. My family too. And I guess that’s my one regret—that I’m the last.
“I miss my older brother the most.” Henry Dale took a steadying breath, as if bracing for the next revelation. “After his wife died, I moved in with him. They never had children, and we lived together up until the last two years of his life. His house had to be sold to pay for memory care. I spent my life’s savings looking after him, and then…”
There was nothing left, nobody who could be there for Henry Dale the way he’d been there for his brother. That’s how he ended up with nowhere to go.
Eli reached forward and patted Henry Dale on the shoulder. “You’re not alone anymore. You can make new friends.”
“You have,” Iris added.
She met Eli’s gaze briefly in the rearview mirror, and her gray eyes practically glowed. For some reason, tears stung Eli’s eyes and his throat tightened, not just because of Henry Dale. Because of this woman and this moment and that look.
“Well, isn’t that something?” Henry Dale said in a surprisingly deep tone, like he might be getting choked up.
Eli felt the same way.
CHAPTER NINE
As iris had guessed, there was no problem picking up the couch covers.
“I was redecorating and thought somebody might want these gray ones,” the woman said as Iris forked over the cash.
Ten bucks was a steal, and Iris took full advantage. But at the same time, it was nice having both Eli and Henry Dale care enough to come with her. Well, she’d offered a free lunch, but still. She hadn’t lived here long enough to have a favorite restaurant, so Eli might know where to go. He said he went to school here, right? That meant he was sort of local. Like Iris, he’d probably moved around a bit.
“You pick the place,” she said to Eli.
“Are you in the mood for anything?” he asked Henry Dale.
The old man glanced over his shoulder. “Oh, lord. This isn’t turning into those ‘I dunno, what do you wanna do’ type situations, is it?”
Iris laughed. “I can make an executive decision. I was trying to be polite.”
Henry Dale didn’t quite smile. “Have you been to Bev’s?”
“Not yet. Can you give me directions?”
“Of course I can.”
Iris noticed that Eli got quiet when Henry Dale started navigating. Not GPS style, but according to odd landmarks and funny little details she never would’ve noticed. Driving this way felt like she was getting a glimpse of how Henry Dale saw the world. Soon, they reached a weathered white building on the outskirts of St. Claire. It had a gravel parking lot, a wide porch, and a faded sign that just said BEV’S alongside an image of a steaming cup of coffee.
Iris parked and hopped out of the car, already loving the retro vibe. Inside, the place was a classic diner from the old jukebox to the torn red vinyl and the Formica-and-chrome tables. There were even a few stools at the counter so people didn’t feel self-conscious about eating alone. Iris eyed the display of cakes and pies, trying not to look overeager. Henry Dale apparently had a usual spot here, as he headed to the second booth toward the back, right-hand side, and slid into the far seat.
Since Henry Dale parked himself in the middle, that left Iris to share with Eli, so she scooted in first. A blue-haired teen trotted over to their table; her name badge read Not Bev. “The menu’s right there.” She pointed.
Oh, that was an ingenious solution. The pages had been laminated and mounted on the wall next to the booth. It was a short list, not a lot to think about. For lunch, it was burger, chicken sandwich, country fried steak, or green salad. Breakfast was a little more varied, and it was served all day, though she’d noticed the café closed at 3:00 p.m.
“I’ll have a cheeseburger,” Eli said.
“Fries or onion rings?”
“Can I say neither?”
The waitress nodded. “Sure, but it costs the same. You want a milkshake instead?”
That was an interesting substitution, but Eli went for it. “Strawberry, please.”
“Chicken fried steak for me,” Henry Dale said. “With all the trimmings and a tall glass of ice water.”
Not Bev laughed, flipping her notepad around so they could see her elegant penmanship. “Already wrote it down, Mr. Macabee. I’ll tell Grandma you stopped in.” She turned to Iris. “Are you ready to order?”
“Biscuit and gravy plate, please.”
“How do you want your eggs?”
“Scrambled.”
“Anything to drink?”
“Iced coffee?”
Not Bev smiled. “We don’t normally serve it, but since you’re with Mr. Macabee, I’ll make you some and charge the same as a hot coffee. My name is Brooke, by the way. The name tag is just a running joke between Grandma and me.”
“The famous Bev?” Iris guessed.
“Yep. She’s on vacation right now. I’ll put your order in and get your drinks while you wait.”