Until There Was You(39)
“Make sure you get the right kind,” his princess now ordered. “Don’t come back here with Stayfree when I specifically asked for Kotex, Dad. There’s, like, a huge difference, and I’m already miserable enough, okay?”
“No, no, we don’t want you more miserable,” Liam said. “I have the first three things, but I can’t find the…” He lowered his voice and glanced around. No one else in the aisle… “The Midol. Maybe they just don’t carry it. Maybe something else will work?” Like a horse tranquilizer?
“No, Dad! It’s there! Okay? Please just find it! Jeesh!”
“Honey, I’ve been looking for ten— Hello? Nicole?”
Great. She’d hung up.
Two and a half more years, and his angel would be off to college. Hard to imagine he’d miss her, sometimes. But the thought caused his chest to tighten abruptly. Super. Wouldn’t that be dignified, a heart attack in the tampon aisle, paramedics swarming, the police being dispatched to his apartment to tell Nicole the bad news, her face crumpling. His baby, an orphan, left to the Tates, who would do their best to erase her memories of him—
Liam’s heart revved in panic, and sweat broke out on his forehead. “Settle down, settle down,” he muttered.
“Got your period?” a voice asked, and Liam jumped, guilty as a shoplifter. Cordelia Osterhagen for the second time in a day. He took an unsteady breath, then looked over at her. She was still in her baseball uniform— Guten Tag T-shirt, baseball pants and cleats. There was a ketchup stain on her left breast, and the sight of her was oddly reassuring.
“You following me?” he asked.
“Yep. And everyone knows you like to browse the tampon aisle.”
He glanced in her basket. Tapioca pudding, at least four pints of Ben & Jerry’s, whipped cream, a block of cheddar, a Pepperidge Farm coconut cake, two frozen pizzas and a carton of Egg…Blisters? No, Egg Beaters. “Watching our cholesterol?”
Her eyes narrowed. “The Egg Beaters are for my dog. Who bites on command, by the way. What can’t you find?”
He looked back at the wall of…stuff. “Midol. Extra Strength. For that special time when you feel like ripping out your father’s throat and drinking his blood.”
Posey grinned. “Wrong aisle, pal,” she said. “It’s in with the Motrin and cold and flu stuff.”
Ah. Why not put the period medicine twelve rows away from the other period stuff? Clearly a woman was in charge of this store. “Thanks.”
“Sure.” She started off.
“Hey, is it my imagination, or is your mother trying to fix me up with your cousin?” he asked, not quite wanting her to go.
Her face turned pink, but she just shrugged and pursed those gorgeous lips of hers. “No clue.”
“Think she likes me?”
“Of course she does, Liam. It’s the law, isn’t it? Women must fall at your feet.”
He grinned. “You don’t seem to do that. Not when you’re sober, anyway.”
Her blush deepened. “Don’t worry, biker boy,” she said coolly. “You’re not my type.”
“No? You sure about that?” He raised an eyebrow and grinned, and her face went from bright pink to Harley-Davidson’s Fire Engine Red.
“Very.” She pushed her cart past him. “But you know, if you’re looking for love, there’s always the mirror.”
She was mad. “Hey, Cordelia. Sorry. Force of habit.”
“Whatever. Hope your daughter feels better. Bring her something chocolate.”
She didn’t look back, and Liam had to admit, it wasn’t his usual effect on women. Even women who hated him softened if he gave them a little dose of charm. Sounded cocky, but it was true. Hadn’t Maya Chu just been flirting with him at Rosebud’s? Liam had been fielding passes since he was fourteen years old. Marriage had slowed that down from a river to a stream, but now that he was a widower, women had been swarming like a cloud of mosquitoes. One woman, someone from the PTA, had slipped her phone number into his pocket at Emma’s wake, and six months later he’d been averaging four or five phone calls a day from a horde of concerned single women (and three married chicks as well) who wanted to let him know they were available if he wanted to talk, have dinner or get laid.
So even if Cordelia Osterhagen blushed when he was around, she was certainly one of the more subtle females he’d come across. The cousin, Greta or whoever, feeding him by hand…that was more what he was used to.
He went to the medicine aisle and found Nicole’s Midol, said a quick prayer that it would work, and swung by the chocolate aisle, adding a mega-size bar of Lindt milk chocolate. Couldn’t hurt.
At the checkout, there was Cordelia again. She didn’t look over at him.
“So, you have a salvage yard,” he said, holding the first box of girl stuff under the scanner.
“Yup.”
“You think you might have something Nicole would like for her room?”
She glanced over. “What did you have in mind?”
Liam shrugged. “I don’t know. Her room back home… Well, Emma had painted it with clouds and all, and Nic was saying the other day how bare it looks here. I didn’t really have anything in mind. Not really good at that stuff.”