A Timeless Romance Anthology: Love Letter Collection Read online

  Dot nodded. “Kick the bucket.” She shrugged. “Billy and I have a bucket list. When we got back in touch, both of us single and still kicking, we decided it would be a great thing to do, so we threw one together. We were supposed to start—” She couldn’t finish; she looked at Seth for help.

  He wiped his mouth with a napkin. After a moment he said, “I helped them arrange things on the list. This week they were going to have... well, they were going to have a blast.”

  “And we still are,” Dot said with determination. She squared herself to Wren. “Because you’re going to take your grandpa’s place.”

  “I’m what?”

  Dot narrowed her gaze. “You’re going to take Billy’s place. You’re going to get his bucket list checked off. One by one. You’re going to do it for him—” Her voice trembled a little. “You’re going to do it for me.” She lifted a finger and pointed across the table. “And you’re going to do it for yourself, Wren. Because life is short. And meant to be lived.” Her hands clenched into fists. “It’s meant to be grabbed with both hands and spun around until you’re dizzy with it.”

  It was as though Wren were made of glass and Dot could see right through her, right to the fear, her every hesitation, right to the invader in her body right now.

  “Wh—when?”

  “This week. We’ll start right now. It’s all arranged, right Seth?”

  Seth nodded. “Good to go.”

  “But the funeral is next week. My mom needs me. She can’t—”

  “I’ll talk to your mom,” Dot said.

  Wren’s head swam. This wasn’t the plan. She couldn’t stay. She didn’t know these people, and she needed to get home. There was so much to be done, and her mom was alone. Music, flowers, cemetery arrangements, pall bearers…

  Dot interrupted her thoughts. “I hate to pull this card, Wren, but… your grandpa would be over the moon if you did this.” She leaned forward, and Wren couldn’t break her gaze. “Take his place. Right now. He was so excited about this. Do it because he can’t.”

  Wren’s throat closed up, and her eyes filled with tears.

  Dot reached across the table and took Wren’s hands in a firm grip. “Do this to say goodbye.”

  She was right. Wren knew it. She could hear him. Go see what you’re made of. She blew out the breath she’d been holding. She picked up her napkin and wiped at her tears. “I’ll need to call my mom. And change my flight.”

  Dot beamed. “There’s my girl.”

  Seth laughed quietly.

  “What are you laughing at?” Dot asked. “You’ll be joining us.”

  “What? I’m just the travel guide. I’m good. See?” He smiled. “I’m at peace with all of this, and I pay my full respects to a man who lived a happy life.” He put his hand over his heart. “Rest in Peace, William Tivegna. You seemed to be the kind of man who met an open door at full speed. May we all do the same.”

  “You’re doing this with us,” Dot said. She reached for an imaginary door knob in front of Seth and pulled. “Door. Opened.”

  A laugh escaped Wren as Seth looked as if somebody had pulled his chair out from under him. Dot didn’t pay him any attention.

  She turned back to Wren, raising her voice above an announcement coming from a mic in the corner of the restaurant. “Let’s get this started. What song would you like to sing?” She pulled out a little pocket camera.

  “I’m sorry?”

  The restaurant patrons began clapping.

  Seth cleared his throat. “First thing on the list.”

  Music started, loud and clear, and the blood drained from Wren’s face.

  Seth leaned forward, looking uneasy. “Karaoke.”

  Dot stood. “Let’s go sign up.” She turned and made her way between the tables.

  Seth stood and pulled out Wren’s chair for her. She looked up at him.

  “Karaoke is on Gramps’ bucket list?”

  He nodded. “I’m afraid so.”

  Her gaze followed Dot over to the stage. “Well.” Wren swallowed. “Dammit.”

  Dot chose her song. Seth frowned over the oldies list. The chaos of butterflies in Wren’s stomach was enough to make her glad she’d only taken a few bites of food. But she’d chosen her song and was in the lineup. Dot’s name was called, she gave them the thumbs-up, and waited next to the stage for her intro. Wren wasn’t singing for a couple more numbers, so she returned to their table.

  Seth joined her shortly. He put his head down on his fists and closed his eyes.

  “Hey, are you okay?” Wren asked.

  He shook his head. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

  “From the food?” He’d nearly cleaned his plate.

  He shook his head.

  “The singing?”

  He nodded.

  The mic hummed with feedback, and they winced. A man with bleached blond hair and a tattoo sleeve stood on stage and tapped the mic until it quieted.

  “Welcome to Oldies Karaoke night at Dixie’s. Nice to see all you folks here enjoying the food and drinks. Hope you enjoy the music, too. All are welcome, so if any of these brave patrons inspires you to give it a try, come sign up with our deejay, TJ, and show us what you got. First up, let’s put our hands together for Ms. Dorothy Gallagher!”

  Applause and whistles came from the crowd. Wren clapped. Seth took out his cell phone to record the performance.

  “This is for Billy, who couldn’t be here tonight.” Dot kissed her finger and held it up toward the ceiling. And she started singing “Stand by Me.”

  Her voice was deep alto and a bit raw, but she knew the notes and sang them out, as if she were reassuring the audience of their truth.

  “No, I won’t shed a tear...”

  “Well,” Wren said. “That’s about perfect.”

  “Yeah,” Seth said.

  “She’s something else, isn’t she?”

  “Yes,” Seth answered with pride in his voice. “She is.”

  They watched the rest of the performance in silence then stood and applauded when Dot finished. Seth stuck his fingers in his mouth and whistled.

  Dot made her way back to the table and dropped into her chair. “Well that about killed me.”

  “You did great!” Wren sat back down. “You didn’t look scared at all.”

  “I’m a better actress then I am a singer.”

  Seth leaned over and kissed her cheek. “You were amazing, Grandma.”

  “Thank you, dear. I just kept picturing Billy stripped down to his nothings, yelling at me to jump off that train bridge the first time. No way was I going to let him see me scared.”

  Wren imagined a much younger Gramps in his skivvies, threatening a young Dorothy with a whooping if she didn’t jump. Wren had heard the same empty threat herself. It didn’t hold much weight when it came with a dashing grin. She smiled, and Dot did too.

  Applause filled the room as the next song ended, clearing Wren’s head of the memory.

  “And now we’ll hear from Miss Wren Lario. Wren!”

  Wren’s stomach dropped, and the blood drained away from her face again. She felt herself nudged up and forward, her feet carrying her toward the stage. The mic was adjusted to her height, and a spotlight burned her retinas. The room quieted, and she tried to speak. Her heart pattered like a rabbit’s.

  “Um, I’m being forced to do this.”

  The audience chuckled, all eyes on her.

  She swallowed. “So... thanks a lot, Gramps. This is for you.”

  The deejay gave her a nod, and the lyrics screen came to life.

  She glanced at the audience then decided she’d be better off not looking at them.

  James, forgive me. I’m about to sing your cheesy song in a karaoke bar. I’ve sung it a few times in the shower, so we should be good.

  She shook her head, her heart pounding. She lifted the mic.

  Wren started singing James Taylor’s “How Sweet It Is,” her voice frighteningly small in the microphone. This
didn’t sound like her in the shower at all. She filled her lungs and sang more clearly, peeking up at the audience. People were smiling. She found Dot, who waved, holding her camera. Wren smiled and headed into the chorus.

  She was doing this. Having a little fun, even. Then, she glanced at the next words on the screen, where she was supposed to sing about where she’d be without the other person in her life. A rock of emotion lodged in her throat, and all she could do was blink, her mouth opening and closing like a fish. The deejay got her attention and gave her a questioning look. She shook her head, but he didn’t seem to know what that meant. All she felt was alone, left too soon. She closed her eyes and tried to breathe.

  She opened her eyes at the sound of another voice with a mic.

  Seth glanced at her nervously, then back to the monitor, picking up the lyrics she’d dropped. He threw her a look that said, Help me? Please? She was drawn back to the words on the monitor and joined him, finding her voice again. He was a pretty good tenor and looked relieved he wasn’t doing a solo anymore. The stronger she sang, the wider his smile grew.

  “I just want to stop—” She smiled at Seth.

  He lowered his voice into the mic. “And thank you, baby.”

  She laughed, and they finished the song. When the music faded, they both practically threw their mics at the deejay, hurrying offstage as fast as they could, barely paying attention to the applause.

  “Hey, where are you two going? You’re Seth, right? You’re next.” TJ the deejay pointed to the clipboard.

  “Oh, I think that counted.” Seth turned to Wren. “That counted, right?”

  “I think so.” She nodded.

  But the deejay shook his head with a laugh. “You’re on the queue.” He motioned toward the stage, set the clipboard down, and turned away, making it final.

  Seth paled again.

  “What are you singing?” Wren asked.

  Seth picked up the clipboard and pointed.

  Her brow lifted in surprise. She bit her lip and looked back at the stage. She turned to Seth. “I’ll sing with you.”

  Seth smiled.

  Back up on the stage, they belted out “Born to Be Wild.” Dot loved it.

  That was all that mattered.

  Chapter Four

  Wren spoke to her mom, and then Dot took the phone and went into the kitchen. Of course Mom had been supportive and encouraging. She kept calling it a “wonderful opportunity.” Wren still wasn’t convinced that she should stay, but after hearing about the list and karaoke, Sue Lario wasn’t going to let Wren come home to funeral planning. “Dot’s right. Gramps would want this for you.”

  No argument could stand up to that.

  Dot had made up the sofa into a bed, and Wren brought her bag in from the car. She’d packed for one night, not four days. She’d have to borrow the washing machine.

  Seth came in with spare pillows. “Help yourself to anything in the fridge.”

  “Thanks, I’m good.” Dinner had tasted better after the songs.

  “Tonight was fun,” he said. “I mean, after the nausea passed.”

  “It was. Thanks again for rescuing me up there.”

  He shook his head. “That was a moment of complete insanity.”

  “I appreciate your temporary madness.”

  He smiled. “It comes and goes, depending on the motivation.” He leaned against the wall and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Things have been sane around here for a little too long.”

  That smile. He had a way of lifting the right corner of his mouth a little higher than the other, even when he spoke.

  Wren lowered her gaze.

  Dot came back into the room. “That’s squared away. Your mother is lovely. I wish...” She sighed. “No matter. I’m beat. You need anything else? Toothbrush? You know where the towels are? Need a glass of water?”

  Wren shook or nodded her head for each answer.

  “Okay. I’m off to bed. What a night. One down, kiddos.” She kissed her finger and pointed skyward, then walked down the hall.

  Wren looked around as Seth lingered a moment. The house was newer, a cookie-cutter of its neighbors, but the furniture was a mix of old and new. “So Dot said this is your house?”

  “Yeah. Boeing hired me after I graduated, and I moved here. Grandma came out to visit and made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

  “Which was?”

  “That if I rented her a room, she wouldn’t move into the Wisconsin retirement community my parents were trying to talk her into.”

  “Oh.” Wren glanced down the hall. “But some of those places are nice.”

  “Would Billy have wanted to live in one?”

  “No, I guess not.”

  He shrugged. “She has diabetes. And mild hypertension. My parents are in California and were worried about her living by herself.”

  “So now she lives with you.”

  “Yes.”

  “And how is that... working out?” Living with his grandma had to be rough on his social life. Wren imagined Gramps moving in with her. Actually, that might have improved things...

  He smiled. “She’s my grandma. You’ve met her. She’s great. But...” He scratched his jaw and lowered his voice. “It’s not like having a puppy or something.”

  “A puppy?”

  He moved closer and sat on the arm of the sofa. “Yeah, you know, to walk in the park. People come over and say, “Oh, how cute... What’s her name?”

  She smiled. “Is that how it works?”

  He shrugged, grinning.

  “And they don’t do that with Dot?”

  “No. When we go to the park, she’s speed walking and yelling at me to keep up.”

  Wren covered her mouth as she laughed.

  He shook his head. “Seriously, though, she loves it here. She has a group of friends she swims with at the Y. She still drives.” He made crazy eyes, and Wren grinned. “She checks her insulin levels and beats me down in poker.”

  “So you’re good for her.”

  He shrugged again. “I wouldn’t have her where she doesn’t want to be.” He looked toward the kitchen. “I know she feels like she’s cramping my style. And maybe she is.” He looked back at Wren and shook his head. “But she’s way cooler than I am.”

  Wren smiled. “Yeah. I know what you mean.”

  He watched her a moment. “Well…” He stood. “Good night.” He turned to leave.

  “Seth?”

  He turned back. “Yeah?”

  Wren peered down the hall. “What... was the relationship between Dot and Gramps? I mean, lately?”

  He thought a moment. “My grandpa’s been gone a long time. Eleven years. I never knew another man to grab her attention. But I think with your Gramps, she was considering it. She was... excited. She told me about when they were young, all the memories as they came back. Getting back in touch with Billy sort of brought back her youth. I think she was hoping for... more, you know?”

  Wren frowned, nodding. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Hey,” he said, “it’s not your fault. In fact because of you, she didn’t give up and throw it all in the trash. This bucket list thing is big. It’s more than something to do. It’s a tribute.”

  “For Gramps,” she said.

  He nodded. He reached and nudged her arm. “For you, too.”

  She looked up at him. Something in his gaze shifted, and it was a moment before she could look away. She leaned back against the couch. “So what else is on the list?”

  “Hm. If you’d known we were going to do karaoke tonight, you would’ve never let Grandma bring you there.”

  “That’s not true.”

  He raised his eyebrows.

  “Okay maybe, but I’ve agreed to the list.”

  He studied her. “Really, I’m not sure I should tell you.”

  “He’s my grandpa. I should know what’s on his list.”

  “Actually, it’s your grandpa’s and my grandma’s list. And it’s not for the fai
nt of heart.”

  She folded her arms. “Is it more karaoke-level stuff or will I... need a parachute... at some point?” She swallowed.

  He laughed.

  “I’m serious.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.” He sobered. “You just surprise me, that’s all. Listen, you won’t need a parachute. Yet.” Her eyes widened. He continued. “I’m nervous about this list, and I’m the one who arranged everything. You might turn tail and run, and then where would we be?”

  “Tell me.”

  He took a deep breath and ran a hand over his head. “Okay, did you bring a swimsuit?”

  “Of course not.” It was February.

  “Actually, that’s probably fine,” he murmured.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. I’m guessing you didn’t bring anything more than jeans and t-shirts, huh?”

  She nodded her head.

  “I promise, tomorrow is really more of a sight-seeing day. Just some things they decided would be fun and off the beaten path. Okay?”

  She studied him. Was he right? If she knew what was on the list, would she worry and bail? Karaoke had been terrifying, but she hadn’t had time to do anything about it. Like Gramps tossing her in the lake to learn how to swim. “Maybe you’re right,” she said. “Maybe it’s better if I find out as we go. But I won’t bail. I’m in this.”

  He smiled again. Why was he so dang happy all the time? “I believe you.” He kept smiling.

  “You know, when you smile like that all the time, it’s kind of creepy. What’s so great?”

  He chuckled silently and sat across from her on the edge of the coffee table. “I just... we get to do this thing, you and I. We get to leap that chasm between believing you have all the time in the world and knowing your time is running out.”

  She sobered.

  “It’s kind of a jolt about what it means to live, that’s all.”

  That’s all. She nodded. She’d had that jolt. She’d entered that chasm at the doctor’s office.

  His grin softened. “So this week, we’re living for Billy.”

  She nodded again, unable to speak.

  He touched her shoulder. “Hey, I didn’t mean to bring you down. Tomorrow will be fun, I promise.”

  Of course it would be; Gramps and Dot were in charge.