Page 60 of If You Claim Me

“What kind of appointment?”

“The doctor kind.”

Panic hits me. All doctor’s appointments recently have been full of bad news. “Are you okay?”

She raises a hand, her voice gentle. “I’m fine. It was my yearly checkup.”

“Oh.” That’s a relief. “This car is a heap of shit.”

She places a protective hand over the side mirror, which is attached to the car with red duct tape. “Do not talk about Betty that way. You’ll hurt her feelings.” She rubs the mirror lovingly. “Or is this you telling me you don’t want me to drive it because you’re embarrassed that it’s worth less than your shoes?”

“I’m not embarrassed. I don’t give a shit if you want to drive a Barbie pink Batmobile. But this is not safe. It looks like it would barely make it to the corner store.”

She crosses her arms. “Well, it’s all I can afford.”

We haven’t reached the one-month mark on our relationship,so no money has been deposited into her account. “What kind of car do you want?”

“You’re not buying me a car when the one I have is perfectly fine.”

“It’s not perfectly fine. The side mirror is held on with tape.” I give it a tug, and it comes off in my hand. “And not very securely.”

“What the fuck, Connor?” She grabs it from me and cradles it to her chest. “Do I go around breaking your things?”

“It was already broken!”

Her defiant edge is back. “Well, so am I. Are you going to pull me apart too?”

“Mr. Grace, is everything okay?”

Barney is standing fifteen feet away, holding a bucket of fresh flowers.

Mildred shoves by me and heads for the house.

“Everything’s fine, apart from my fiancée’s car.” I make a note to fix the problem as soon as possible. She needs a safer vehicle, and I can certainly afford to put her in one.

I leave Barney in the driveway and follow Mildred through the employee entrance, but she’s disappeared.

“Dred! How was your day?” I hear Ethel call from the kitchen and head in that direction. “What do you have there?”

“One of Betty’s ears.” She shoots a glare over her shoulder at me.

“Who’s Betty?”

“My car.”

I can’t help myself, I follow her into the kitchen.

“Oh! How did that—” Ethel’s eyes go wide, and she jumps off her stool, standing at attention when she sees me. “Mr. Grace, I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you there. What can I do for you?”

I frown and glance around the kitchen. Every single person is now standing in the same position—backs straight, hands clasped in front of them, wearing slightly panicked expressions.And they’re all staring like they’re waiting for me to bite their heads off.

“I don’t need anything,” I assure them, attempting a friendly smile.Except for my future wife to stop being angry about a side mirror.

“He needs a time-out.” Mildred points at me.

“He needed a lot of those as a child,” Ethel says.

“Did he now?” Mildred pulls a stool up to the massive island.