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A man in paint-spattered coveralls had walked into the aisle and started looking through the myriad bins of nuts and bolts. “Man, I love that show,” he said.
Frankie frowned at him and towed Mitch to the end of the aisle. “WewatchCop Stop.”
“What could I do?” he protested. “She came over with brownies. Then she asked me what I do on Sunday night, and I started to tell her.”
“But you didn’t get as far as telling her you watchCop Stopwith me?”
The man in the coveralls was still listening in. “Dude, you’re in deep shit.”
Frankie glared at him. “Do you mind?”
“Sorry,” he said, sounding mildly offended, and went back to searching the bins of nuts and bolts.
She turned back to Mitch. “That was no time for you to work on good manners.”
He held up both hands. “Okay, my bad. I didn’t think you’d get so mad.”
“Well, I am!”
He stared at her, then shook his head slowly. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you were jealous.”
“I am,” she said, not quite as loudly, not quite as insistently.
“That doesn’t make sense. The woman who’s been telling me for years that I should find someone, the woman who only earlier this month was trying to sic Wilhelmina What’s-Her-Name on me is now chewing me out for spending time with a woman who she—you—made Mrs. Claus.”
“She wasn’t Mrs. Claus when she brought you brownies!”
“Oh, for crying out loud,” he said in disgust. “What was I supposed to do, kick her out?”
“How about telling her you had a long-standing commitment? She’s the wrong woman for you,” Frankie insisted. “You can’t be interested in Elinor.”
He studied her. “Why shouldn’t I be? Tell me, Frankie.”
“Because I don’t want to share,” she blurted. “I don’t care if sharing is caring. Darn it all, Mitch.”
He leaned against a shelf and crossed his arms over his chest. “What are you trying to say here?”
Words started tumbling out randomly. “I didn’t realize... I just didn’t think...” She started tearing up. “I felt like I was being disloyal to Ike. And darn it all, Mitch. You’re eight years older.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Thanks for reminding me.”
“The idea of losing another man I love... Oh, what am I thinking? I can’t do this.” She turned to leave.
He caught her arm. “Yes, you can. Come on, Frankie. You know how I feel about you. And you’ve just made it pretty clear how you feel about me. Are you going to deprive us of a great life we can have now and keep us hanging in limbo all because you can’t see into the future? None of us knows what the future holds.”
He was right. Her mother was right. Everyone was right! She didn’t want to be a bystander watching everyone else on the merry-go-round. If she kept playing it safe, someone would come along and steal Mitch’s heart, and then she’d be playing alone. She didn’t want to be alone. She wanted to be with Mitch.
“Quit being a chickenshit,” he continued, “and—”
That was as far as he got. She grabbed him by his Handy’s Hardware polo shirt and yanked him to her and kissed him. At first, he stood there in shock, stiff as a totem pole, but then he caught fire and wrapped his arms around her. And that was when the kiss exploded like gunpowder, both the physical sensation and emotional thrill, packing enough of a wallop to leave her weak-kneed.
“Score!” whooped the man in the coveralls.
“I’d say,” said Mitch, smiling down at Frankie. “And you’re right. We need to have a talk.”
He led her to his back office, plopped onto his desk chair and pulled her onto his lap. “Now, where were we?”
“With me, coming to my senses. I guess it took seeing you really enjoying being with another woman to make me realize what I was about to lose.”
