butter. “I’ll take a break from the store and drive back to give you a lift. Marvin can handle Oslow’s for a half hour solo.”
“Your son could handle the store all day, every day. Something he’s told you time and again, but you’re too set in your ways to retire.”
“I’m too young to retire.”
“You’re seventy-three.”
“You’re seventy-six and you’re still working.”
“Yes, but this is my first job. You’ve been working your whole life. You deserve a break. At least cut down to half days like me and we could have some fun together.”
He glanced over. “I thought we were having fun.”
He looked a little stricken and Daisy was reminded of how sensitive Vincent was compared to her deceased husband. Just one of the things she loved about him. Smiling, she reached over and brushed crumbs from his snowy beard. “Of course, we’re having fun, Speedy. I meant more fun.”
Vincent was a grounded man with a gentle soul. Which was nice, but kind of boring. She’d been pleased as punch when she’d learned he occasionally indulged in nocturnal joyrides, racing the back roads and tipping the needle past seventy. Yes ! Hence, his pet name—Speedy—which no one else understood because Vincent Redding plodded along in everyday life. Slow and easy. Steady and sure. A chubby, white-bearded, Santa-like man who favored baggy-seated denims, plaid shirts, and red suspenders.
The ever cautious man narrowed his eyes. “What did you have in mind?”
Over the last few years, Daisy had developed a reputation for being reckless. She preferred to think of herself as a thrill-seeker. So what if she incurred a few bumps and bruises as a result of the random adventure? Life was short and, after losing Jessup (a man who’d expected Daisy to behave like a prim and proper wife) to cancer, she’d vowed to make up for lost time, grabbing the gusto, the brass ring, and whatever else snagged her attention along the way.
“I’m compiling a family bucket list,” she said while drenching her French toast with a local maple syrup.
“What’s a bucket list?”
Daisy gaped at her other half, her significant other, the man she was living with in sin—unless you counted the vows they’d taken at Rocky’s wedding as legal, which they weren’t. “Haven’t you ever seen that movie?”
“What movie?”
“The one with that actor, the one with the crazy eyebrows and dark sunglasses. You know, the one who starred in the ‘cuckoo nest’ movie. And that other actor, the handsome black geezer from Driving Miss Daisy .”
Vincent munched on his toast and considered. “Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman?”
“If you say so,” Daisy said.
“What movie?”
“The Bucket List!”
“Never seen it.”
“We’ll have to remedy that,” Daisy said. “Just know they lived life to the fullest even if it meant breaking the rules.”
“Knowing you,” Vincent said, “I understand bucket list. But what’s family bucket list?”
“A bucket list involving family.”
Vincent sipped coffee then smiled, his kind eyes twinkling with interest. “Could you expand on that explanation?”
Daisy nodded. Her old heart fluttered and it had nothing to do with her ongoing medical issues. Her first husband, Jessup Monroe, her wedded husband of fifty years, wouldn’t have asked her to expand on her thoughts. Jessup, God rest his soul, had been too wrapped up in his own business to care diddly about her personal aspirations.
Focusing on the here and now, Daisy plucked a folded paper from her pocket and passed it across the table. “I’m blessed to have a large family—including extended family beyond the immediate Monroes. Some of them are floundering in the romance department. Before I kick the bucket I’d like to make sure they’re as hooked up and happy as I am right now. With you.”
Vincent flushed as he slipped on his reading glasses. “I appreciate the sentiment, but if you’re asking me to play
“Your son could handle the store all day, every day. Something he’s told you time and again, but you’re too set in your ways to retire.”
“I’m too young to retire.”
“You’re seventy-three.”
“You’re seventy-six and you’re still working.”
“Yes, but this is my first job. You’ve been working your whole life. You deserve a break. At least cut down to half days like me and we could have some fun together.”
He glanced over. “I thought we were having fun.”
He looked a little stricken and Daisy was reminded of how sensitive Vincent was compared to her deceased husband. Just one of the things she loved about him. Smiling, she reached over and brushed crumbs from his snowy beard. “Of course, we’re having fun, Speedy. I meant more fun.”
Vincent was a grounded man with a gentle soul. Which was nice, but kind of boring. She’d been pleased as punch when she’d learned he occasionally indulged in nocturnal joyrides, racing the back roads and tipping the needle past seventy. Yes ! Hence, his pet name—Speedy—which no one else understood because Vincent Redding plodded along in everyday life. Slow and easy. Steady and sure. A chubby, white-bearded, Santa-like man who favored baggy-seated denims, plaid shirts, and red suspenders.
The ever cautious man narrowed his eyes. “What did you have in mind?”
Over the last few years, Daisy had developed a reputation for being reckless. She preferred to think of herself as a thrill-seeker. So what if she incurred a few bumps and bruises as a result of the random adventure? Life was short and, after losing Jessup (a man who’d expected Daisy to behave like a prim and proper wife) to cancer, she’d vowed to make up for lost time, grabbing the gusto, the brass ring, and whatever else snagged her attention along the way.
“I’m compiling a family bucket list,” she said while drenching her French toast with a local maple syrup.
“What’s a bucket list?”
Daisy gaped at her other half, her significant other, the man she was living with in sin—unless you counted the vows they’d taken at Rocky’s wedding as legal, which they weren’t. “Haven’t you ever seen that movie?”
“What movie?”
“The one with that actor, the one with the crazy eyebrows and dark sunglasses. You know, the one who starred in the ‘cuckoo nest’ movie. And that other actor, the handsome black geezer from Driving Miss Daisy .”
Vincent munched on his toast and considered. “Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman?”
“If you say so,” Daisy said.
“What movie?”
“The Bucket List!”
“Never seen it.”
“We’ll have to remedy that,” Daisy said. “Just know they lived life to the fullest even if it meant breaking the rules.”
“Knowing you,” Vincent said, “I understand bucket list. But what’s family bucket list?”
“A bucket list involving family.”
Vincent sipped coffee then smiled, his kind eyes twinkling with interest. “Could you expand on that explanation?”
Daisy nodded. Her old heart fluttered and it had nothing to do with her ongoing medical issues. Her first husband, Jessup Monroe, her wedded husband of fifty years, wouldn’t have asked her to expand on her thoughts. Jessup, God rest his soul, had been too wrapped up in his own business to care diddly about her personal aspirations.
Focusing on the here and now, Daisy plucked a folded paper from her pocket and passed it across the table. “I’m blessed to have a large family—including extended family beyond the immediate Monroes. Some of them are floundering in the romance department. Before I kick the bucket I’d like to make sure they’re as hooked up and happy as I am right now. With you.”
Vincent flushed as he slipped on his reading glasses. “I appreciate the sentiment, but if you’re asking me to play
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