the tall, broad-shouldered man, wearing a pink-and-white apron as he displayed a tray of fresh-baked cookies.
“Paul taught me that true love is helping the other person to be the best she can be and supporting her goals.” Doreen’s throat muscles worked. “In this photo, he’s helping me bake cookies for a Heritage High School fundraiser.”
“I remember that fundraiser.” Darius continued in a deadpanned voice. “You would have raised more money if he’d just bought the cookies.”
“You’re probably right about that.” Doreen’s laughter joined her friends’. “But his heart was in the right place.”
“Absolutely.” Alonzo grinned.
Doreen left the altar but still wouldn’t meet his gaze. Alonzo’s stomach muscles tightened. Had the Day of the Dead celebration been a bad idea? She seemed to enjoy it, but did she understand why he’d wanted to share it with her? Paul had been his friend, too. He wanted to help her celebrate her late husband. He didn’t want either of them to ever forget him.
“Your turn, Darius,” Alonzo prompted the reporter.
Darius looked at the gift bag in his hand. “My contribution seemed like a good idea at the time. Now I think it’s out of place.”
Alonzo frowned. A quick glance around the room showed he wasn’t the only one baffled by Darius’s words. “We’re celebrating loved ones who are deceased. No one is out of place, Darius.”
The reporter expelled a heavy breath. He emerged from behind Ms. Helen and proceeded with weighted steps to the altar. The black-and-silver gift bag hung from his right hand.
“My deceased loved one isn’t a person but still means a lot to me.” Darius withdrew a photo from the bag and turned it to face his friends. “Most of you will remember Riddler, my black Labrador retriever.”
Mystery solved, Alonzo grinned. He glanced down to find Doreen sharing her smile with him. He slipped his right arm around her waist and pulled her closer. She didn’t resist him. Perhaps the event had been the right thing to do after all, for him and Doreen as well as for Darius.
“I remember that devil dog. He ate my favorite sandals.” Ramona still held a grudge sixteen years later.
“Only the left one.” Darius seemed compelled to defend his pet.
“And he polished off the ham I’d made for an Easter dinner. The entire ham.” Doreen struggled to maintain her frown, even as a grin threatened.
Darius gave her an innocent look. “That was meant as a compliment.”
“Was there anything Riddler wouldn’t eat?” Megan asked.
“No.” Ean shrugged. “He and Darius were alike that way.”
“That dog followed you everywhere.” Jackson grinned. “You should have named him Shadow.”
Ms. Helen shook her head. “Riddler was the perfect name for Darius’s dog. The Riddler is one of Batman’s more interesting villains.”
Alonzo nodded with agreement. “What did Riddler teach you, Darius?”
“Unconditional love.” Darius placed Riddler’s photo on the altar. In the image, Riddler was attempting to eat a football. “And how to evade the strong safety.”
The former high school and college football player returned to the group. Ms. Helen offered him a smile as she patted his arm.
Alonzo retrieved the bottle of red wine he’d saved for after the tributes. With Doreen’s help, he filled and distributed the nine glasses. He asked his friends to bow their heads for a small prayer.
After the appeal, he lifted his glass. “A toast. To our loved ones who’ve passed on and the memories they’ve left behind.”
He watched Doreen as he shared the toast. A cloud swept over her features. She averted her gaze from his and grew quiet again. If celebrating the Day of the Dead together didn’t prove his feelings to her, what more did he have to do?
Darius sensed a trap. “You want me to chair a fundraising committee?”
Had Jackson lost his mind?
Darius eyed his publisher warily from the cushioned gray guest chair
“Paul taught me that true love is helping the other person to be the best she can be and supporting her goals.” Doreen’s throat muscles worked. “In this photo, he’s helping me bake cookies for a Heritage High School fundraiser.”
“I remember that fundraiser.” Darius continued in a deadpanned voice. “You would have raised more money if he’d just bought the cookies.”
“You’re probably right about that.” Doreen’s laughter joined her friends’. “But his heart was in the right place.”
“Absolutely.” Alonzo grinned.
Doreen left the altar but still wouldn’t meet his gaze. Alonzo’s stomach muscles tightened. Had the Day of the Dead celebration been a bad idea? She seemed to enjoy it, but did she understand why he’d wanted to share it with her? Paul had been his friend, too. He wanted to help her celebrate her late husband. He didn’t want either of them to ever forget him.
“Your turn, Darius,” Alonzo prompted the reporter.
Darius looked at the gift bag in his hand. “My contribution seemed like a good idea at the time. Now I think it’s out of place.”
Alonzo frowned. A quick glance around the room showed he wasn’t the only one baffled by Darius’s words. “We’re celebrating loved ones who are deceased. No one is out of place, Darius.”
The reporter expelled a heavy breath. He emerged from behind Ms. Helen and proceeded with weighted steps to the altar. The black-and-silver gift bag hung from his right hand.
“My deceased loved one isn’t a person but still means a lot to me.” Darius withdrew a photo from the bag and turned it to face his friends. “Most of you will remember Riddler, my black Labrador retriever.”
Mystery solved, Alonzo grinned. He glanced down to find Doreen sharing her smile with him. He slipped his right arm around her waist and pulled her closer. She didn’t resist him. Perhaps the event had been the right thing to do after all, for him and Doreen as well as for Darius.
“I remember that devil dog. He ate my favorite sandals.” Ramona still held a grudge sixteen years later.
“Only the left one.” Darius seemed compelled to defend his pet.
“And he polished off the ham I’d made for an Easter dinner. The entire ham.” Doreen struggled to maintain her frown, even as a grin threatened.
Darius gave her an innocent look. “That was meant as a compliment.”
“Was there anything Riddler wouldn’t eat?” Megan asked.
“No.” Ean shrugged. “He and Darius were alike that way.”
“That dog followed you everywhere.” Jackson grinned. “You should have named him Shadow.”
Ms. Helen shook her head. “Riddler was the perfect name for Darius’s dog. The Riddler is one of Batman’s more interesting villains.”
Alonzo nodded with agreement. “What did Riddler teach you, Darius?”
“Unconditional love.” Darius placed Riddler’s photo on the altar. In the image, Riddler was attempting to eat a football. “And how to evade the strong safety.”
The former high school and college football player returned to the group. Ms. Helen offered him a smile as she patted his arm.
Alonzo retrieved the bottle of red wine he’d saved for after the tributes. With Doreen’s help, he filled and distributed the nine glasses. He asked his friends to bow their heads for a small prayer.
After the appeal, he lifted his glass. “A toast. To our loved ones who’ve passed on and the memories they’ve left behind.”
He watched Doreen as he shared the toast. A cloud swept over her features. She averted her gaze from his and grew quiet again. If celebrating the Day of the Dead together didn’t prove his feelings to her, what more did he have to do?
Darius sensed a trap. “You want me to chair a fundraising committee?”
Had Jackson lost his mind?
Darius eyed his publisher warily from the cushioned gray guest chair
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