by Nancy Adams
She made a face. “Hospital food is notoriously disgusting, and St. Luke’s is no exception.”
“You have to eat something, Grandma.”
“Then go to McDonald’s and get me a Big Mac. I could use a hamburger right about now.”
“No.”
“You would deprive a poor old woman of a hamburger? What’s this world coming to?” she said as she reached for saltines on the neglected food tray that I finally noticed was sitting next to her.
While she munched on them, I studied her. She wasn’t your typical grandmother. Yes, she baked, but that was just her profession. She wasn’t exactly sweet or innocent. She had an opinion about everything, competed in half-marathons for fun and had a very tell-it-like-it-is attitude. And I saw those same traits in myself.
But I realized suddenly that despite all her youthful endeavors, Grandma was getting old. Her raven-colored hair now showed signs of graying. And although she had her share of wrinkles, I noticed new ones as I studied her.
She felt my eyes on her and said, “What?”
“You’re getting old,” I blurted out.
She sighed, used to my abrupt way of talking; after all, I had gotten it from her.
“So you’ve noticed finally,” she replied succinctly.
There was a long pause, as neither one of us wanted to have THAT discussion.
But my grandmother, braver than I, started the conversation neither one of us actually wanted to be a part of. “You know I’m not going to be around forever, Libby.”
“I don’t want to talk about this,” I said, moving away from her bedside and walking to the window that overlooked the parking lot. I hated this. I couldn’t face her. I hated that she was in the hospital. I hated that she was getting old. I couldn’t accept that. Besides my best friends, she was all that I had. Grandma was my family.
“Libby, as much as I would love to hold the title of world’s oldest grandma, we both know that I’m in my golden years and I don’t have that much time left.”
“Stop talking like that!” I said with more force than I intended, still not turning around. I folded my arms tightly across my chest and continued to stare down at the parking lot, wishing I were one of the employees that worked here instead of a visitor having the conversation I was having now.
“Come over here, Libby. Sit down. We need to talk.” Her voice was stern. She was using the tone she reserved for when I refused to do my homework or when I was out late with a boy back in my rebellious teen years. Not that they had been too rebellious. Grandma wasn’t for the faint of heart, and she had ruled our household with an iron fist. The first time I snuck out of the house was the last time.
Remembering that day, I smiled to myself and sat down again. “Remember when you caught me sneaking out of the house? I had to have been what, fifteen, sixteen?”
Grandma smiled, the expression reaching her light blue eyes that were the same shape as my own brown ones. I gazed at her with amusement as I recalled that memory.
“Yeah, I was so close to sending you off to military school in California,” she said with a laugh.
“Is there even military school for girls?” I asked, genuinely curious.
“Who knows? But it was an idle threat. I barely had money to fund your activities in public school. I couldn’t have paid military school tuition even if you were the first G.I. Jane to show up.”
I laughed. “Yeah, but at the time I didn’t know that. It was terrifying thinking of being that far away from you. California felt like the other side of the world.”
“When you were a teenager, you felt that Boston was the other side of the world,” she responded with a laugh before coughing.
It was a nasty cough. That was the only way I could describe it. It was frightening to listen to, not normal and dry. This cough was long and hard, as if her lungs were struggling to work as her whole body shook with the force of it.
“Are you okay?” I said, standing up and touching her lightly on the back. She gestured for water as she continued coughing. I turned quickly to get it, feeling emotional as I hovered next to her hospital bed, waiting for the coughing to finally subside. I felt powerless, and that bothered me to no end. She had raised me to be independent, bold and capable. Right now, I felt as capable as an ant trying to pull an 18-wheeler.
I handed her the cup of water and she took a big sip and choked a little. “Take it easy. Take it easy,” I said reassuringly.
She took a small sip this time and sighed. “I feel like crap. And I know I look like crap.” She reached up and touched her hair as if to fix it.
“You don’t look like crap.”
“Yes I do. You said so.”
“I said, ‘You look old.’ There’s a difference.”
“Not much of one,” she said matter-of-factly. “And back to the subject at hand, I’m not getting any younger. I want you to have something I never really had in life.”
She paused and settled back on her bed. She stared at the ceiling, not making eye contact with me as I settled into the recliner next to her bed. “You know what I was thinking when you walked in?”
I shook my head.
“I was thinking how proud I am of you. You’re pretty remarkable. And I have myself to think for that.” She turned her head towards me and gave me a big smile.
I laughed. “Umm…thank you. And thank yourself, I guess?”
She laughed as well. “You know I don’t have a modest bone in my body. Of course you’re remarkable, because that’s who I raised you to be.” Her tone then became serious. “But no matter how remarkable you are, I don’t think you should have to go through this life alone. Not like I did…”
Her voice trailed off and I frowned. What was she talking about? Alone?
“I’m not alone. I have you, Sarah and Marie.”
“I know. And they’re great. And I…well, I won’t be here forever. I just want you to have a family of your own. I want you to have the life I couldn’t give you after your parents died.”
“You gave me a great life,” I said, meaning every word.
“You know what I mean. Yeah, we made a great team. We ARE a great team. But I want you to have it all. The happy ending, the white picket fence, the house, dog, two-point-five kids and a man who loves you.”
I stared at her in shock, and she saw the look and shrugged, continuing, “Yeah, I know I’m not exactly the traditional type, but I do want those things for you.”
I didn’t know what to say. Marriage? A kid? Was she kidding?
“Grandma, I can’t even commit to having a dog.”
She snorted in laughter. “I’ve gotten sentimental with my old age. Volunteering at the nursing home and seeing all those grandparents with their grandkids showing up…I don’t know if I just became envious.”
“You want to be a great-grandmother?”
“Actually no, that makes me sound ancient. What I want is just for you to be happy.”
“I am happy.”
“Ok then, happier.” She surprised me then, reaching out for my hand. “Just humor an old woman. Go out on a date or two. All you do is work. And there’s way more to life than just that, Libby.”
I knew she was right, but I had priorities, and dating didn’t even make the list.
“I just want to know that if I leave here, you’re not alone,” she said.
“Don’t talk that way,” I felt myself tearing up.
“I’m not trying to emotionally blackmail you into dating. I just want you to meet the one and create your own happily-ever-after with him. Is that asking too much?”
I smiled tightly and lied through clenched teeth. “Nope. Not at all.”
By the time I left my grandmother’s hospital room, she had wrangled me into agreeing to go out on a date with her best friend’s grandson. The last time I’d seen him, he was a snotty-nosed kid with bugs between his teeth. I shook my head. What had I gotten myself into?
Chapter Two
Sarah had a
smirk on her face as she looked at me.
“What?” I said testily.
“Oh nothing…It’s just nice to see the shoe on the other foot.”
“Speaking of shoes,” I said, “how the heck am I supposed to walk in these?” I pointed at the pointy-toed heels that Sarah had insisted I wear with my current outfit, which was dressy jeans and a very sexy low-cut top that happened to be low cut in the back as well. My chestnut-colored hair was cut short into a boyish pixie style, which I felt accentuated my cheekbones. My grandmother had cheekbones that could rival Cher’s, and I had inherited them as well. Even though I was chesty, I felt my cheekbones were hands down my best feature. They made my otherwise average face seem exotic.
“Are you nervous?” Sarah asked me.
“Are you kidding me? Do you know how many men I’ve dated?” I said incredulously while clenching and unclenching my toes in the far too uncomfortable shoes. God, how I just wanted to put on a pair of sneakers. Back in the day, when I dated all the time because I had nothing better to do, I was the type of girl who insisted on being taken to sport bars so that I could just wear jeans and a jersey and be done with it. I wasn’t exactly a girly-girl.
“Well, I was just trying to say that if you were nervous, there’s nothing to be nervous about.”
“Ummm…I’m not nervous.”
“Are you sure?”
“Sarah, is this some sort of subtle form of harassment?”
She rolled her eyes at me. “So let me get this right. You’re going out on a date with a guy you haven’t seen since you both were ten?”
“Yep.”
“And that doesn’t make you nervous?”
“Nope. It makes me feel desperate.”
Sarah couldn’t help but laugh. “What are you going to do if he’s an absolute jerk? Sneak off into the bathroom and then run for the exit?”
“Come on, Sarah. You know me better than that. I’ll just casually get up, take my purse and walk purposefully out the front door.”
“You’re so ballsy.”
It was my turn to laugh, and when I was done, she continued. “Maybe he’ll be completely different from the gross kid you remember. Maybe he’ll have a stronger immune system, so he won’t have phlegm running out his nose. And maybe he’ll no longer eat bugs. That’s how it is in all the movies. The guy grows up to be a billionaire knock-out.”
“Well let’s hope life imitates fiction here,” I said.
At precisely eight o’clock, I said bye to Sarah and made my way to the car. I got in and took my time driving to our agreed-upon meeting place. It was an upscale oyster bar. I started to rethink my idea of wearing jeans and wondered if instead I should have gone for a cute, flirty dress. The problem was that I didn’t do cute and flirty. It just wasn’t my style.
I parked my car and stood in front of the restaurant, realizing for the first time that I had forgotten to ask for a picture. I had no idea what this guy looked like now. For all I knew, he could have grown an extra eye or something. My grandmother had called her best friend that night in the hospital and arranged the date. I’d simply sat there and agreed to it after much complaining and my grandmother pulling the “I’m a sick old woman” card to ensure I agreed. I could barely even remember his name, let alone what he looked like, besides my memories of him always sniffling and trying to get me to eat bugs. I briefly wondered if he had grown up to be an entomologist. Gosh, I realized belatedly, I didn’t even know what he did for a living.
Shaking my head, I was about to call my grandmother to tell her there was no way I could do this when a voice said from my side, “Libby? Is that you?”
I turned around and blinked once and then again. The man in front of me was hot. As in movie-star hotness. So hot that he made me feel that between the two of us, people would be looking at me wondering how I could have ever scored a date with him. How could a person this beautiful be single? I silently thought, smiling unsurely in his direction. Gosh, Sarah was right. This was just like a movie.
“Ummm…Yeah, I’m Libby. And you’re Pearl’s grandson…errrr…Lionel…Richard…Richie?” I said, grasping at straws and feeling so ridiculous that I had pretty much called him the name of an 80s pop star. His dark brown eyes studied my body before coming back up to my face.
“Leonardo. Or just Leo. But you were close. Ha!” His laughter sounded forced, but then again, I had called him by the wrong name. If he had called me Linda instead of Libby, I would have been put off too.
“I’m sorry, Leo. My memory of anything before sixth grade pretty much sucks.”
He shrugged and extended his elbow. Surprised, I hooked my arm around his. What a gentleman, I thought to myself. Hmmm…so maybe gentlemen weren’t a rare breed nowadays. Maybe I just had a bad habit of only dating questionable characters. That wasn’t too much of a stretch to consider; after all, I felt as if I deliberately dated men who weren’t relationship material. It kept things less emotional and allowed me to put little effort into dating or having to build and work at an actual relationship.
We were seated quickly and spent the next hour catching up. I found myself enjoying his company. It had been awhile since I had gone on a date. I didn’t realize that I missed it until I found myself laughing at Leo’s jokes and smiling despite myself.
He was an expert conversationalist. He knew when to listen and when to interject with witticisms or a related story or two. I subtly checked him out as he had done to me earlier. He was average height, just under six feet, and from the feel of his biceps earlier, he spent quite a few hours at the gym. The man had guns, that’s for sure. But his most alluring feature was his eyes.
I found myself staring, and he noticed. “What? Is there something on my face?”
“Not since we were ten,” I quipped and he laughed.
“So tell me, Libby. What’s a girl like you doing single?”
“A girl like me?” I said, smiling flirtatiously at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He smiled back and tilted up a brow. “You’re sexy, confident, and successful, and you know what you want. You’re a catch. So why are you single?”
I shrugged. “Because that’s what I prefer. I could ask you that same question. Why are you still single?”
He smiled differently then. I didn’t think it was possible, but it seemed to be almost predatory the way he smiled humorlessly, as if about to share something that only he knew.
“I have no interest in getting married, settling down or whatever you want to call it. I don’t want a life partner. I’m pretty great all on my own.” He settled forward in his chair and folded his hands on the table. “You see Libby, I’m not looking for a partner to complete me. I’m already complete. I’m a one-man show. However, I am missing a little female companionship. I’m trying to make partner at my law firm and they expect someone of my standing to be in a steady relationship. I get that. I, more than anyone else, understand how important image is, but I’m married to my job. I need a woman in my life who understands that and won’t be demanding of my time and energy. And I think you might just be that lucky woman.”
I was admittedly taken aback by his arrogance. I liked a man with confidence, but Leo was definitely a bit too much, even for me. And where did he get off thinking that I was lucky because he was interested in me?
“I completely understand that you’re not the marrying kind. Frankly, I don’t think I am either. However, don’t misunderstand the situation here, Leo. I’m not looking to land some hot shot attorney who loves himself so much that he thinks any woman would jump at the chance to play house with him. I’m definitely not that girl.”
He didn’t say anything; he just stared at me for a few long seconds and then laughed. He continued laughing as if what I’d said had tickled him to the point of hysteria. He laughed so hard other patrons turned to look, and to be honest, even I was starting to wonder if maybe he was having some sort of mental fit.
I cleared my throat and said, “I know I�
��m hilarious, but I’m not America’s next comedy queen, you can stop laughing now.”
He snorted unappealingly and said, “I love when you women get all feisty. Tell me Libby, are you just as feisty in the bedroom?”
I looked at him as if he had just sprouted a third eye, promptly stood up, grabbed my purse and walked away.
He walked behind me and caught up with me quickly. “Where do you think you’re going?” he said, grabbing me by my arm.
I snatched my arm away from his grip. “Touch me again and I’ll make you regret that you even woke up this morning.”
He didn’t test my threat, but he did look down his nose at me before delivering one last parting verbal jab. “I did you a favor by even agreeing to go out with you.”
“Well now you can do me a favor and just get out of my face,” I said, ready to hit him with my purse.
He sneered and opened his mouth to say something else when a deep voice cut in.
“Libby, is this guy bothering you?”
I turned, immediately recognizing the voice. It was Ash Jefferson. And he was wearing an apron, which kind of looked silly on his tall, imposing figure. He’d reminded me of a lumberjack the first time I met him, and even with the apron, he still resembled one. I hadn’t known he worked there, but I honestly didn’t know much about him at all. He was new in town and helped coach the soccer team when I wasn’t available or when we had a big tournament. It was rumored that he used to play professionally, once upon a time.
He was recently divorced, I’d heard, and from our interactions, he seemed to be a genuinely nice guy, although I didn’t know him all that well. His niece, Kitty, was on the soccer team. Before he started coaching, she had honestly been a handful. She was a free spirit who did her own thing. Granted, she was only eight, so I couldn’t fault her, and from what I understood, she was being raised by her father and had very little interaction with her mother.
Before I could answer, Leo looked Ash up and down as if judging if he were worth talking to before saying, “Go back to the kitchen and mind your own business. Don’t you have cucumbers to cut up or something?”
