As soon as the service is done and the pastor has finished with his sermon, people make their way over to us to offer up condolences to Gia. And my woman, being who she is, stands tall and proud in the face of her pain, shaking hands and accepting words of kindness about her grandmother, when I know it’s the last thing she wants to do. When all that’s left is Tide, Nat, my family, Nina, Ned, Gia, and me, I lead her out of the cemetery with my arm around her shoulders so she doesn’t have to watch them lower her grandmother’s casket into the ground next to her grandfather’s grave.
Stopping at my Suburban, I watch her hug my parents and brothers then do the same with Ned and Nina before they all take off and get in their cars.
“I’m sorry, Gia,” Tide says, giving her a hug she quickly accepts.
“Thanks, Tide.”
Bumping his fist to mine once he’s let her go, he mutters, “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” I agree, watching him head toward his pickup that’s parked a few feet away and get in.
“I’m going to go with Carson and hang with Kirk and Rose at their place for a bit to give you two some time alone,” Nat says, and I lift my chin to her in a silent thank you.
“Are you sure?” Gia asks, and Nat nods then wraps her arm around her shoulders, rocking her from side-to-side as they hug.
“I’ll see you later.”
“See you later,” Gia says, watching Nat walk away and get into Carson’s car.
Helping Gia into the passenger side, I buckle her in then wrap my hand around her jaw. “You doing okay?”
Taking off her sunglasses, she looks at me and shakes her head, whispering, “I didn’t cry.”
“Baby.” I rest my forehead to hers.
“I didn’t cry. I should have cried.”
“You’ve cried a lot since she passed, baby.” And she has cried a lot. Countless times I’ve woken up to find her curled into a ball crying in the middle of the night, or out in one of the rocking chairs, looking at the lake with tears streaming down her cheeks. Each of those times, I’ve either gathered her close to me and held her while she cried, or picked her up and carried her back to bed where I did the same.
“People probably think I’m crazy for not crying at my own grandmother’s funeral, when they were all crying.”
“No one thinks you’re crazy. You handled yourself beautifully. Your grandma would be proud of you. I’m so proud of you,” I tell her, and her face crumples right before she covers it with both her hands and sobs. Resting my cheek to hers, I whisper, “See? You’re crying. Are you happy now?” I know it’s a lame joke, but when I hear her laugh and sob at the same time, I smile then kiss the side of her head. “Let’s go home.”
“Okay.” She wipes at her face as she looks at me then her eyes go over my shoulder. I turn to watch my brother and Nat drive by, with Nat waving at us out her window. “Do you think Nat will be okay?”
“She’ll be fine.”
“Maybe Carson can bring her home,” she says hopefully, and I look into her eyes and see the same look there that she had just last night.
“Christ,” I mutter, listening to her laugh. Sliding my thumbs across her wet cheeks, I wipe away the tears that are there, then press a soft kiss to her lips. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“Let’s get you home.” I step back and slam her door closed. Heading around to the driver’s side door, I loosen my tie then unhook the top button of my dress shirt to make it more comfortable. Pulling my keys out of my pocket, I get in behind the wheel then drive us home, where we spend a few hours alone in bed doing nothing more than just holding onto each other and talking quietly.
And when Nat gets back, she tells Gia that Carson drove her home, which means Gia spends the rest of the night smiling.
~**~
“Call as soon as you land!” Gia shouts, and Nat looks back over her shoulder and waves before heading for security. “I already miss her,” she says, and I wrap my arm around her waist and turn us toward the exit.
“She’ll be back. And you’ll see her in a few weeks when we go to Chicago.”
“I know,” she sighs, sliding her arm behind my back and grabbing hold of my tee. “Did I tell you that Carson got her number?”
“Yeah, baby. You told me ‘bout a hundred and fifty-two times,” I mutter, and she laughs, pressing her face into the side of my chest.
“It’s exciting.”
“Don’t get your hopes up,” I warn, opening the door for her to get in her Jeep, which we drove to the airport since my dad is using my Suburban to haul stuff around today.
“I’m not,” she lies, and I let out a bark of laughter.
She’s been plotting for the last few days; she even got my mom in on it. I know this, because just last night, Mom invited her Nat and I over to dinner. She also invited Carson. Mom and Gia both arranged us at the table so that Carson and Nat sat next to each other. And then after dinner, they suggested we play a game called Know It or Blow It, where they partnered us up into teams of couples, which meant Nat and Carson were once again paired up. I could tell my brother was onto Mom and Gia, but he didn’t say anything about it.
“He kept looking at her all night. I think he likes her,” Gia keeps up as I get in behind the wheel.
“She’s pretty and sweet, babe, but she lives hundreds of miles away, so I doubt he’s going to go there with her.”
“You never know.”
“You’re right. I don’t know,” I agree, leaving the parking garage and stopping at the exit to pay. Hearing Gia’s phone ring, I watch her dig it out of her bag then see her look at the number before sliding her finger across the screen.
“Hello,” she answers, putting the phone to her ear. “Yes, this is Gia Caro. Yes, Tuesday at four works for me. Okay, great. Thank you so much, I look forward to seeing you too.”
She hangs up and I glance over at her. “What’s up?”
“That was the school Nat and I dropped my resume off to yesterday. They want me to come in on Tuesday next week to interview for a teaching position,” she says.
I reach over, picking up her hand. Bringing it to my mouth, I press a kiss to her fingers. “That’s great news, baby.”
“I want to cry,” she whispers.
“Please don’t.”
“They would be happy tears,” she adds, and I squeeze her hand.
“I don’t like any of your tears, happy or not,” I tell her honestly, then ask, “What grade will you be teaching when you get the job?”
“If I get the job, I’ll be teaching preschoolers.”
“When you get the job.”
“If I get it.”
“Dimples, you’ll get the job.”
“We’ll see,” she murmurs.
~**~
The following week, I watch Gia walk through the door of the bar with an expression on her face I can’t read. I didn’t see her this morning when she left for her interview, since I was already at work. Seeing her now, I know it’s probably a good thing I didn’t, because I would have made her late for her interview, since all I can think about is pulling her hair out of the bun on top of her head, ripping open the yellow, long-sleeved, form-fitting top she has on, yanking up the black fitted skirt she’s wearing, and feeling her black heels dig into my back. She looks like a hot schoolteacher.
Scanning the bar, I notice I’m not the only one thinking about all the dirty things I want to do to her. Except unlike the men watching my woman walk toward me, I’m the only one who will get to experience those fantasies firsthand.
“Well?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest when she’s a few feet away.
“I got the job!” she shouts, rushing around the bar toward me and throwing herself into my arms.
Claiming her immediately, I wrap my arms around her waist, kiss her hard and wet, and thrust my tongue into her mouth, not giving a fuck who’s watching. When I pull back, I only do it an inch so I can look into her eyes. “I’m happy for you.”