Better Deeds Than Words (Words#2) (2 page)

“Trying to get caught up on school work. A certain asswipe threw me into a tailspin this week.”

“Guilty as charged.” He sighed dramatically. “Is there anything Mr. Asswipe can do to help?”

“I’ll be fine. I work well under pressure.”

“Good. I thought we should finalize dinner plans for tomorrow. Are we still on?”

“Of course.”

We hashed out the details before Daniel had to go.

“Can’t wait to see you,” he said.

“Me too,” I said. My face warmed at the thought of being with him again. I hung up, smiling goofily.

I wandered back out to the kitchen. Matt was sitting in the armchair, highlighting a textbook, but he caught the dreamy expression on my face.

“Ah, young love,” he said. I flicked his ear as I passed him with my snacks. “Ouch. What happened to gratitude?”

“I left it on your dresser earlier. Help yourself to a second cup,” I said breezily, kicking my door closed behind me.

Chapter 2

A Merry Feast

Small cheer and great welcome makes a merry feast.
(
Comedy of Errors
, Act III, Scene 1)

W
HAT
D
O
Y
OU
W
EAR
to dinner at your TA-slash-boyfriend’s grandmother’s house? This question plagued me as I stood in front of my closet the next day, staring at my woefully underwhelming wardrobe. What had Daniel said? “
Nice pants and a sweater.
” Not jeans. Black pants and my chenille wine-colored sweater? It was snug and soft and screamed
touch me!
Definitely what I was aiming for. Decision made.

Ready to go, I went to the living room. Matt was flopped in front of the TV. I updated him on my plans for the evening.

“Wow. Extended family? That’s serious.”

“Please don’t, Matt. I’m nervous enough.”

“Don’t worry. She’ll love you. Hey, what if Jo comes back tonight to do laundry or something? What should I tell her?”

I groaned as I slipped on my coat and boots. “I haven’t told her about Daniel yet. Can you say I’m out with Julie or something?”

“Sure, I’ll cover for you.”

“Thanks.”

I walked to the subway, and at twenty to five, I was picking my way through a snowdrift in front of Dundas West Station to get to Daniel’s car like we’d planned. He leaned over to push the door open for me.

“Hi,” I said as I hopped in.

“Hi yourself, gorgeous. Get over here.” He leaned across the armrest. “I haven’t kissed you in over forty hours. I can’t wait another minute.”

He pressed his lips to mine, forgoing sweet and tender in favor of hot and passionate. He was delicious and smelled divine—whiskery and freshly-cologned. I moved my hands up to his face, and he frowned at my gloves.

“Take these off,” he grumbled, plucking them from my hands and throwing them over my shoulder. I tickled his scruff and curled my fingers in his soft hair. I could feel him smiling against my lips.

“Better?”

“Much,” he said. Then we were on our way, Daniel quizzing me about my day as we drove to the heart of a High Park neighborhood. A few minutes later, we turned into the narrow driveway of a two-story brick house with a wide porch and traditional white-fenced front yard.

“This is it,” he said. “You ready?”

“I think so.”

He retrieved a bag from the back seat before coming around to help me out of the car. He turned the handle on Patty’s front door and poked his head inside.

“Hello?” he called. “Patty?”

“Yes, Daniel, coming!”

Patty bustled out to the front hall, quickly hugging Daniel before turning to take my hand.

“I’m so glad you were able to come,” she said. Without missing a beat she added, “Where’s the wine?”

Daniel handed her the bag. “I grabbed two one-liter bottles. There’s no way we’ll make our way through both tonight. Put one bottle aside for another time.”

“I suppose that’s an acceptable compromise,” she said with a tart smile. “I’m slicing the roast. Dinner will be ready shortly.”

“Let me get some of the snow off the sidewalk,” Daniel said. “You don’t want the city issuing you a fine. You’ll be okay for a minute?” he asked me, taking my coat and hanging it up.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Be right back.”

I took off my wet boots and made my way through to the kitchen. The house was not at all what I’d been expecting. After seeing Daniel’s parents’ house, I’d imagined something similar. This house was nothing like the Grants’ Forest Hill mansion. Patty’s house had character and charm. The rooms were smaller, slightly cluttered, and homey.

In the kitchen, she moved between the stove and a giant cutting board where a carved prime rib waited to be served.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” I asked.

“No, no, dear. Everything’s under control. Make yourself at home. There’s quite a rogues’ gallery in the hallway there if you’re interested in family photos,” she said.

I stepped through the doorway at the back of the kitchen and saw the wall she meant. It was full of pictures in a mishmash of decorative frames. I scanned the rows, taking particular interest in the photographs of Daniel, Brad, and Jeremy.

“You have a beautiful family, Patty,” I said when she joined me. “Is it okay if I call you Patty?”

“Of course it is, as long as you don’t expect me to start clapping my hands and chanting nursery rhymes.” She smiled. “You know the story behind that name?”

“I do.” I laughed.

“How disappointing. One less anecdote I can embarrass Daniel with. But yes, please, call me Patty. And don’t ever let me catch you referring to me as ‘Nan’ or ‘Nanny.’ I’m not a goat.”

“Got it.” I smiled and turned my attention back to the pictures.

“That’s my Gail.” Patty gently placed her fingers on one of the frames. “She died, you know.”

I nodded. “I’m terribly sorry. I can’t imagine…” I trailed off, unsure what else to say. Poor Jeremy.

“One of the most horrific things a parent can endure. But thankfully we still have our Jeremy. He’s so much like Gail. Compassionate and kind.”

I continued to examine the photos, tracing Daniel’s transformation from a pudgy baby to a pink-faced toddler and eventually a good-looking, lanky schoolboy. My eyes landed on a picture of Daniel with his arm around a pretty brunette with sparkling blue eyes. My heart lurched. They were both dressed formally. He couldn’t have been any older than sixteen or seventeen. Patty saw me gazing at the picture.

“That’s Sabrina. She was Daniel’s first real girlfriend, I think. She went to Havergal, the private girls’ school. That was Havergal’s prom. Daniel came home from Oxford three times during his first year of university to visit her, but then he built a new life for himself in England. It’s not easy to maintain a long-distance relationship at that age. Not terribly advisable, either.”

“No, I suppose not.” I tore my eyes away from the photograph. There was no point being jealous of Daniel’s past. He wanted
me
now. That was all that mattered.

We returned to the kitchen, and Patty went back to stirring the gravy. Daniel ducked inside, noisily stomping the snow off his feet. As he hung up his coat and slipped off his boots, I noticed he was wearing the same outfit he’d worn the day he’d made me dissolve into a hot mess in the Hart House Library. Those black jeans paired with the sex boots could potentially cause my early death. He ran his hands through his hair, shaking out the snow.

Breathtaking.

“Thank you for doing that, Daniel,” Patty said. “Now, I’m not going to stand on ceremony. Why don’t we dish everything up in the kitchen?”

“Good idea.” Daniel smiled and rubbed his hands together. “Ladies first,” he said, handing us both a plate.

“Everything looks wonderful,” I said as Daniel spooned food onto my plate.

“Patty’s an awesome cook,” he assured me. “Best gravy in Toronto.”

I pointed to a muffin tin with little puffy, doughy things in it. “What are those?”

“Those are Yorkshire puddings,” Patty said. “You have to have Yorkshires with a roast.”

“You’ve never had one?” Daniel asked.

“Not to my knowledge.”

Daniel dropped two of them on my plate.
I’ll never eat all this
.

“I’ll top up the gravy and bring it in. Can you take the salad?” Patty said, handing me a bowl.

I made my way to the table, which was set for three. Patty sat across from me, leaving the other chair for Daniel. He set his overflowing plate down before opening one of the bottles of wine and pouring us each a glass. He sat, and I paused before reaching for my cutlery. Would Patty want to say grace?

“Enjoy,” she said, picking up her knife and fork. “Try the Yorkshires, my dear. I’m interested to hear what you think.”

Okay, no grace in the Wright household. Fair enough. I cut off a piece of the fluffy pudding and popped it in my mouth.

“Mmm, that’s wonderful,” I said.

“Told you,” Daniel said.

I dipped some potato in the gravy—Daniel was right. It was amazing. Everything was delicious. Not glamorous in the slightest, but absolutely wonderful all the same. We ate quietly for a moment before Daniel broke the silence.

“So, tell me about Gerald, Patty. How long has this been going on, young lady?”

“Don’t patronize me, Daniel,” Patty said. “He’s a lovely man, widowed for three years. I met him at Florence’s house over Christmas. We have a lot in common. He enjoys dancing and playing bridge. He’s a gentleman, and I like his company.
And
he has all his own teeth.”

Daniel laughed and shook his head.

“Good teeth are imperative,” Patty said, gesturing with her fork. “Do you floss, Aubrey? It’s very important.”

“I try to remember,” I said.

“Try harder. You’ll be glad you did when you reach my age. Nothing worse than kissing a man with dentures. Always worry they’re going to pop out and bite you. More roast, Daniel?” She dropped another slice of prime rib on his plate.

Daniel regarded her with amusement, then glanced over at me, perhaps trying to imagine what I must be thinking.

I loved her. She was a hoot!

Patty held out the salad tongs. “Daniel, take more tomatoes.”

“I already have a few. I’m fine.”

She tossed three more tomato wedges on his salad plate. “Lycopene. It’s good for the prostate,” she said.

Daniel rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Prostate cancer,” Patty said to me in a hushed voice. “That’s what got Bradford—my husband. Never ate a tomato in his life. I’m convinced that’s what did him in. Although I read an article recently about the importance of regular ejaculations as well. Not that Bradford had a problem with that.”

I bit my lip to stifle a laugh. Daniel stared at her in stunned silence.

“You are having your oil changed regularly, I hope?” she asked him.

What the hell?
Penny had said Patty was a corker, but nothing had prepared me for
this!
She was awesome! I blinked back tears as I tried not to burst into laughter. Daniel, on the other hand, was choking on a mouthful of roast beef. I clapped him on the back and handed him his water glass.

He gulped some and cleared his throat. “Jesus, Patty. That’s a rather personal question.”

“It’s uptight people who impede the distribution of important information. Don’t you think, Aubrey?”

“Oh, I couldn’t agree more,” I said, casting a meaningful glance at Daniel, who narrowed his eyes at me.

He turned back to his grandmother. “Are you implying I’m uptight?”

“Implying? No, no, I was stating it as a fact. I happen to believe you need to extricate that rather long pole from—well, there’s no need to discuss the sordid details at the table,” she said.

Daniel put down his fork and looked back and forth between the two of us. “Huh,” he said, miffed. “Okay then. Allow me to put your mind at rest. My oil is being changed fairly regularly. There. Satisfied?”

He picked up his fork and forcefully stabbed a carrot. I hoped his comment wasn’t intended as an admission that we were involved in an intimate relationship. Patty quirked an eyebrow at me, and I held up my hands as if to say, “Don’t look at me.” She surveyed Daniel expectantly, and he cleared his throat.

“Unfortunately, I’m decidedly, um, self-employed, at the moment,” he said.

Oh. My. God
. Was he really sitting here at the dining room table with his grandmother and admitting to masturbating? Regularly? Patty remained unfazed. We could have been discussing the current price of pork tenderloin.

I couldn’t hold my tongue any longer. “Well, Daniel, this is very interesting. How is business these days, if you don’t mind me asking?”