“I did. A credenza at a garage sale a few blocks over. Gonna need a lot of work. Maybe you can come by the shop next week and hear my plan of attack.”

Frank rubbed his hands together. “I’d love to. I’m going batty cooped up over here.”

Kara cleared her throat. “Excuse me?” I couldn’t hold in my laughter. Frank was going to get it for that comment.

“Love you more than life, sweetheart. But I’m gonna go crazy if you keep me locked up much longer.”

Kara huffed, but her expression gentled, and she gave him a quick kiss. “You’re lucky I love you, and that I’m willing to drive you over to The Catch next week.”

“You’re the light of my life.” Kara scoffed, and Frank chuckled. “Come on, Bell. School me in a couple of hands of gin rummy, and then I’ll toss you the keys to the truck.”

I followed Frank into the living room. He settled in his recliner, and I sat on the couch. I slid out one of those tv trays that hid beside the sofa and set it up. We’d played countless hands of rummy on this tray as soon as Frank had been well enough to spend his days in the recliner instead of in bed.

“So…” Frank started as he shuffled the deck of cards.

“Yes?”

“How are things going at The Catch?”

A stiffness I couldn’t seem to fight invaded my muscles. “It’s going well. Ford has some good ideas.”

Frank began dealing out cards. “That’s good. He treating you okay?”

“He’s the perfect gentleman.” He had been. I had been the one trying my best to keep him at arm’s length. It wasn’t fair, I knew it, but it was the only defense I had.

“Good. Now, I’m not going to be the perfect gentleman.” Frank grinned, a wicked one so similar to his son’s. “Prepare to be trounced!”

We lost ourselves in round after round of gin rummy, laughing until my stomach hurt and just enjoying the trash talk and reminiscing. The time flew by. I glanced up from my cards and peeked at the clock on the wall. “Okay, old man, this has to be my last hand.”

“She’s calling me old, that means she doesn’t have squat.”

I laughed as I lifted a card from the draw pile. My mouth formed a smirk as I slowly stood.

Frank’s face fell. “Oh, don’t you dare.”

With a dramatic flourish, I flipped the cards over to reveal three queens. “Gin.”

“You card shark,” he accused. I began my very elaborate victory dance that included my version of the running man and some lassoing moves above my head. “You know, it’s not polite to shove your victory in the loser’s face.”