Page 293 of Devil’s Disciples

“Me, too.”

It was crazy. My life had gone from great to awesome after meeting Porter. I was in love, which I never thought was going to happen. I had a new girlfriend who wasn’t an attention whore, and the possibility of having another who had a nursery and a funny Irish mother-in-law.

I’d spoken to my parents about Porter, but not at length. I needed to do just that, and to schedule a time for Porter and I to go visit them.

“Have you met Baker’s parents?” I asked.

“They’re not alive any longer,” she said.

“Oh. Has he met yours?”

Her face went solemn. “They’re both deceased. I was raised by my aunt.”

“I’m so sorry,” I said.

She put on a slight smile. “Has Ghost met yours?”

I’d talked to my mother at length about Porter, but not my father. I suspected my mother may have mentioned him to my father, but she hadn’t said one way or another. I remained nervous about revealing the news to my father, as I knew he’d react unfavorably.

“Not yet,” I said. “But he’s going to.”

“They’ll like him,” she said. “He’s pretty to look at. Parents like pretty boys.”

I’d never really thought of him that way, but he was pretty. My mother would love him. My father? Well, that was a different story altogether.

108

Ghost

George sat down across from me and looked at me like I’d forgotten to bring the turkey to the Thanksgiving dinner. “Where’s your better half?”

“She’s not feeling good. It’s either a bad piece of sushi, or a rotten oyster. We had seafood on Sunday and on Monday she ate raw fish with one of the girls.”

“One of what girls?”

“One of my friend’s wives.”

“She needs more women in her life.” He looked me over. “You’re not here to eat, are you?”

“Why do you ask that?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Why are you answering a question with a question?”

I shrugged. “I planned on eating, yeah.”

“What’s troubling you?” he asked.

“Who says something’s bothering--”

He cleared his throat. “I’m like the know-it-all bartender. Except I’m not a bartender.”

I chuckled. “So, you’re just a know-it-all?”

“The all-knowing diner owner.” He leaned against the back of the booth and crossed his arms. “I know there’s something you want to talk about. I guess that leaves the only question as being what is it?”

It wasn’t going to be easy to talk about no matter how long I waited, so I decided to do what Abby often did, and just blurt my thoughts out onto the table.

I wished I was all-knowing like George, but I wasn’t. All I knew was that I loved Abby, and that the love I felt for her had me wanting to commit to spend the rest of my life with her.