Page 87 of The Last One to Let You Down

“Aaron told Miss Wheel, who told me when I went to go get my check,” Edie said with a sly little smile. “Said you was seeing the nice black fella who owns the flower shop.”

“Well, Iwas.” Tom shut the drawer with a sigh.

“What happened, baby? Do I need to go beat him up?”

Tom tried not to laugh at the idea of tiny Miss Edie hurting anyone, and he said, “We moved pretty fast, and we’re… well, I don’t know what we are.”

“Was the sex bad?” Edie frowned.

“Edith,” Tom hissed, absolutely scandalized by such a blunt question.

“What? S’why I left my first husband. He was as soft as a turkey neck unless I fed him peas like a baby.”

Tom couldn’t believe what he was hearing and clutched the box of eye caps to his chest. “He… what?”

“You heard me, baby.” Edie went back to fixing Mrs. Mendez’ hair. “He couldn’t do nothin’ unless he was being a baby, baby.”

“And that was… too weird for you, right?” Tom chose his words carefully, as a heavy stone began to roll around his gut.

“Oh, I didn’t really care about that,” Edie replied with a deep laugh. “Everybody’s got a little weird up in ‘em. But there won’t no compromise. It was all about him and his damn peas. A woman can’t live on just peas, you know what I mean, baby?”

“It had to be peas?”

“Lord, yes. I tried offering him carrots one time, and you woulda thought I’d spit right in his face.” Edie rolled her eyes.

“Did you ever, uh, do anything like that again?”

“Mm, well, as a lady, I’m not gonna air out all my dirty laundry, but I will tell you that in my many years walkin’ on God’s green earth that I’ve had some fun.” Edie smiled, and Tom couldn’t believe how wicked she looked.

“And you didn’t care people might think it’s dirty?”

“Baby,” Edie said, stopping to look Tom dead in the eye. “What people? Are you planning on telling everybody what you and your fella do?”

“Well, no.”

“Then who gives a flip? Ain’t nobody’s business what you’re doin’ beneath the sheets. As long as you’re both happy and feelin’ good, and it ain’t nothin’ with live animals.”

“Noted.”

“So? What’s the problem, baby? Was it like eatin’ too many peas?”

“It was more like…” Tom couldn’t believe this conversation was actually happening. “It was like having ice cream, and then tiramisu and sponge cake, and it was just… it was somuch, and I felt bad about eating it all? Like, what would people think if they saw me eating all of that?”

“You on a diet?” Edie huffed.

“No, but—”

“But nothin’, baby. You eat what the hell you want to. Life is too damn short for munchin’ down on something you don’t like. You gotta figure out what flavors you like, and then you go for it. You ain’t got anybody to answer to except yourself.”

“Yeah?” Tom smiled.

“Come on now,” Edie urged. “You and that nice lookin’ fella need to sit down and figure out what recipes you like. Do you understand what I’m saying, baby?”

“You’re saying I should go for it and not worry so much about what I like even if it’s, uh, different?”

“Exactly, baby.” Edie grabbed a can of hairspray. “I dated this one guy who liked suckin’ on my toes, but Jesus was okay with gettin’ his feet washed in the Bible, so I reckon he’s good with the weird stuff, too.”

“Edie, I love you.” Tom laughed. “Please don’t ever change.”