Page 37 of On the Rocks

I hadn’t told her anything about him, not before we got here. And all I’d said was, “Betty, this is Noah.”

I shrugged, an apology in my eyes as Noah cleared his throat, turning to Betty once more. “Myfather?”

“Oh, yes,” she said, nodding with a knowing smile. “You’re Noah Becker. I’d know those eyes and that mischievous grin anywhere.”

At that, my mouth popped open, and Noah stilled completely.

“Your father took a liking to my Leroy,” she explained, her eyes growing misty as she watched the water from the pool lap the sides. “And my Leroy sure did appreciate having a friend, especially there toward the end.”

I swallowed. “Leroy was Betty’s husband,” I explained. “He passed away about twenty years ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Noah said in a hushed voice, and the confusion in his eyes shifted to sympathy as he put a hand on Betty’s shoulder.

“It was a hard time,” she said. “But, honestly, it’s him I feel sorry for. Poor bastard has been waiting at Heaven’s gates for me all this time. He had to know I’d take a while, but I’m sure if he could, he’d holler down at me just like he used to holler up the stairs.” She chuckled, brows folding together as she did her best impression. “Woman, get your cute behind down here. Ain’t no makeup or hair curlers gonna make you look any more beautiful than you already are.”

My heart swelled, and Noah smirked up at me before he dropped his hand from Betty’s shoulder. “He sounds like quite the guy.”

“He was,” she agreed. “But, then again, so was your father. It seems we lose all the best ones too young.”

Noah sobered at that, nodding just once. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Your father would come see us every Good Friday,” Betty explained, which was the nickname the distillery had given to the last Friday of every month, when they would give each of their employees a free bottle of whiskey with their paycheck. “Every single one for about four years, right up until the time the good Lord took my Leroy. They had met down at Buck’s one night, and I don’t know what transpired there, but boy, did those two take a liking to each other.” She smiled. “So, every Good Friday, your father would come by with his bottle of Scooter Whiskey and a bag full of fried chicken. We’d all sit out on the porch and eat and drink and laugh until it was way too late for two old folks to be up. Sometimes your mom would join, sometimes not. But John? Well… Johnny was always there.”

Noah swallowed, looking down at the water for a long moment before he met her gaze once more. “Sounds like a wonderful friendship.”

“It was,” she agreed. “And your father, he was a good man. When I met you today, I almost swore a ghost had come back to life. You look just like him, you know?” She beamed. “Same eyes, same hair, same Becker Trouble Grin.”

She pinched his cheek at that, and Noah smirked.

“You’ve got his spirit,” she said, her voice softer now as she watched Noah. “You’re a good man, too, Noah Becker. And I’m glad I got to spend the afternoon with you.”

I watched what I would have sworn was Noah’s bottom lip trembling, but as soon as I thought I’d seen it shake, it was steady again. He smiled through whatever he was feeling — and I knew he was feelingsomething— as he reached forward to pull Betty in for a soft hug.

“Me, too, Miss Betty. Even if you did show me up on the dance floor.”

She chuckled, her little shoulders shaking in his broad arms.

When he pulled back, he cleared his throat. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go get a shower and dry off. I’ve got this thing I’ve got to get to.”

“What thing?” I probed.

He grabbed the back of his neck. “Oh, it’s nothing, really. Me and my brothers try to get together every weekend to play cards. I usually host, and they’ll be heading over in about an hour.” He shrugged, giving me a soft smile, though he still seemed caught up in his thoughts. “Someone’s gotta order the pizza.”

I nodded, but my stomach sank at the realization that the day was nearly over. Noah would go hang out with his brothers, and I’d go home…

To wedding planning.

And Mama.

And all the stress I’d forgotten about over the last few hours.

I chewed my lip, eyes bouncing back and forth between Noah’s before I swallowed. “I like cards…”

He blinked, the tiniest smirk climbing at the corner of his lips. “Yeah?”

I nodded. “I used to play blackjack and Texas hold ‘em with my dad and his friends sometimes. Just for fun, but… yeah.”

Noah smiled wider. “You want to come over? We could use some fresh blood at the table.”