by K. Street
“Mimi telled me we can have a movie night. And play games. And play with Legos.” He bounced on the balls of his feet. “How long till we leave?”
“As soon as I get Turtle inside, we can go.”
I crossed the kitchen to the wall of glass doors that led to the screened-in pool area and slid one of them open, giving a loud whistle.
Turtle bounded in from the fenced backyard through the doggie door at the side of the pool deck.
“Come on, boy. It’s time to come in.”
His excited bark echoed through the space.
I closed the door, and after Zeke said good-bye to Turtle, we piled into my truck and headed to Mimi’s neighborhood.
Several years ago, when Mimi had been ready to sell the house she and Pops had lived in for something smaller and more manageable, she’d moved into the Silver Shores retirement community.
“We’re here,” Zeke announced as the large fountain came into view.
I stopped at the gate and punched Mimi’s code into the keypad.
Seconds later, the gate arm slowly lifted, granting us access.
I drove a few blocks and then turned down the street Mimi lived on. I parked in one of the empty spaces in front of her condo.
Zeke had his seat belt unbuckled from his booster seat before I even killed the engine.
He opened the rear passenger door and slithered out, not bothering to grab his backpack or close the door.
The kid would forget his head half the time if it wasn’t attached.
A smile tugged at my lips when I thought about how our mom used to say the same thing to me.
How many times did I forget my baseball bag in her car, growing up? Or left my sketchpad behind?
Too many times to count.
My little brother was a lot like me. I couldn’t fault him for it.
Resigned, I pulled my keys out of the ignition. Then, I got out of the truck and moved around to the other side to grab the bag before following Zeke.
“It’s me, Mimi.” He pounded the end of his small fist on the door.
We waited several long seconds.
Muffled voices came from the other side of the wood.
“Why is her not coming?”
“Patience, pal.”
I loudly rapped my knuckles on the door before twisting the knob and stepping inside.
The scent of freshly baked cookies assaulted my senses.
“Mimi?”
“We’re in here, honey,” she called. “Come on in.”
After Zeke darted around me, I closed the door and dropped the backpack onto the couch.
Once in the kitchen, I found my grandma sitting at the small table in the breakfast nook with my friend Carter’s wife, Kendall, and their little boy, Brucey.
“Hi, Mimi.” I leaned down to kiss her cheek before I greeted the pretty blonde across from her, “Hey, Kendall.”
Kendall stood and gave me a quick hug. “Ryder. How’ve you been?”
“I can’t complain.” I returned her embrace and then turned my attention to her little boy. “Hey, little man.” I ruffled Brucey’s hair.
“Hi.”
“Brucey! I didn’t know you was going to be here,” Zeke nearly shouted. “Want to play with me?”
“Can I, Mommy?”
Kendall sat back down and reached for her phone, swiping the screen to check the time. “For a few minutes, and then we need to go.”
The boys fled from the room like something was chasing them.
Mimi’s laughter floated in the air. “I wish I had half of their energy.”
“Me too,” Kendall agreed.
Seconds later, the distinct rattle of Legos could be heard all the way in the kitchen.
“Ryder, honey, are you thirsty?” Mimi asked.
“I’m good.”
“Nonsense. Get yourself some milk from the fridge. And have a cookie. I made your favorite.” She beamed and pushed the dish in the center of the table toward me.
I suspiciously eyed Mimi’s Blessed Mess cookies, which sat artfully arranged on the plate, waiting to be devoured. They were chock-full of chocolate chips, crushed pretzels, chocolate-covered caramels, and mini marshmallows. Not only were these cookies pure confectionary genius, but she also used them as a form of bribery.
Mimi made them every time she wanted to butter me up for something.
Like when the old folks needed a fill-in bingo caller.
Or the time she’d volunteered me to design a set for the Silver Shores residents’ adaptation of Charles Dickens’s A Christmas Carol.
The Wrinkle Regime decided on a Florida theme. Twinkle lights on palm trees. Flamingo yard ornaments in place of lampposts. Then, to make matters worse, Bertha was put in charge of costumes.
I’d strongly debated therapy afterward.
There are some things a man just couldn’t unsee.
Like old men strutting around in banana hammocks and old ladies in coconut bras.
I shook off the memory, reached for a cookie, and took a bite.
Damn.
I literally had to stop myself from moaning. They were that good.
“Mimi, you spoil me.”
“Well, someone has to.”
Her subtle dig at my love life didn’t go unnoticed. My love life—or lack thereof, as it was—happened to be Mimi’s favorite subject.
“Mimi.” My amused tone held the slightest bit of warning.
She shrugged a shoulder and batted her lashes. “What?”
“You know what.”
Mimi harrumphed.
Wanting to change the subject, I asked, “Kendall, how’s Carter?”
“Busy and wonderful. He flew a client to Hawaii yesterday and should be home sometime tomorrow.”
Kendall and Carter were former residents of Silver Shores. They had lived in the condo Carter had inherited from his grandmother years ago.
The day Dad and I had moved Mimi into her new digs, Carter had come over and offered to help us unload the U-Haul. Afterward, we got to know each other over a beer. We’d been friends ever since.
At the time, Carter had still been working as an airline pilot. Later, he had gotten a job as a contract pilot for a private jet company, the same company where my dad had worked as an aircraft mechanic until his death.
After Kendall had moved in with Carter, she had taken a crash course in cosmetology. She still offered her services for free to the elderly in the Silver Shores neighborhood, and she not only did nails, but she also did hair now.
Over the years, the Clynes had become like family. Truth be told, I wasn’t sure how I’d have made it through the last few years without them or Mimi. I had been twenty-five when Zeke and I lost our parents and my entire world was turned upside down.
Kendall’s chair scraped against the floor as she stood. The sound tugged me from the place my thoughts had been headed.
“I’d better get going”—she pushed the chair in—“or Bertha will be too sloshed to make sound hair decisions.”
“That shade of red you did last time looked lovely on her,” Mimi told her.
Kendall grinned. “Bertha wanted something different, and we finally settled on the red after I used my powers of persuasion to talk her out of neon pink.”
“No.” Mimi covered her mouth with her hand.
“Can you imagine the field day Muriel would have had?” Kendall laughed. “Poor Bertha would have looked like one of her freaky troll dolls.”
Muriel and Bertha were spirited elderly women and part of the beloved Bingo Babes.
Laughing, Mimi stood and pushed out her chair, and then she pulled Kendall into her arms for a hug. “Bertha is lucky to have you. We all are. Thanks for squeezing me in.”
“It was no trouble at all,” Kendall assured her.
“Ryder, be a dear and get one of my homemade lasagnas out of the freezer for Kendall. Slip it into one of those insulated bags I have in the pantry.”
“Oh, Harriett, you really don’t
have to do that.”
“Nonsense. You won’t take my money. The least I can do is feed you.”
I stepped over to the freezer. Reaching inside, I grabbed the wrapped aluminum foil pan and then opened the pantry for the cooler bag.
“There’s no sense in arguing with her. You won’t win,” I told Kendall as I slipped the frozen entrée inside the bag and set it on the counter.
“He’s right. You should listen to him,” Mimi said, snatching two cookies from the plate on the table. “I’m going to check on my boys and take them each a cookie.”
Kendall eyed her. “I see how it is. You’re going to sugar up my kid and send him home with me.”
“You know what I always say.” Mimi paused at the threshold of the kitchen. “What happens at Mimi’s, you deal with later.” She dashed away, leaving Kendall and me both laughing.
“She’s feisty,” Kendall said.
“Don’t I know it?”
“Before I forget, I’m planning an end-of-summer get-together. I’ll have Carter text you as soon as I firm up the date. Nothing fancy. The kids can play in the pool. We’re going to throw some burgers and hot dogs on the grill.”
“Sounds like fun.”
She beamed. “It will be.”
Something about the way she said the words gave me pause.
“Wait. You’re not trying to set me up again, are you? Because that last chick was crazy.”
“Luna wasn’t crazy. And it was over a year ago.”
“The woman lit sage and circled my truck while chanting God knows what. Whatever she did caused a disturbance in the force. After dinner, I had a flat tire.”
“Which had nothing to do with the two nails you ran over.” Kendall busted out laughing.
“I’m just saying, it was suspect.”
“I swear, you are so ridiculous.” She held her hands up in surrender. “I promise I’m not trying to set you up.”
I still wasn’t convinced but conceded anyway. “All right, then. I’m sure we’ll be there.”
“Great. I’ll have Carter text you the details.” She gave me another quick hug and then grabbed the bag containing the lasagna from the counter. “Take care. I’ll see you soon.”
“Bye, Kendall.”
Several minutes later, after Kendall and Brucey left, Mimi reappeared in the kitchen.
“Zeke still playing with Legos?”
“Yes. Says he’s building a village. That boy can spend hours playing with those things.” Mimi opened the fridge and pulled out a bowl covered in plastic wrap. “Would you mind setting the dining room table for lunch?”
“The dining room table?” I let out a low whistle. “Should I grab the good china too?”
“Don’t be a smart aleck. There will be five of us.”
“Five?”
“That’s what I said.”
“I can’t stay. I’ve got work to catch up on at the shop.”
“You can spare an hour for lunch. Besides, once you get in the zone, you forget to eat. Now, set the table.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Reaching into the cabinet where Mimi kept the plates, I asked, “Who’s coming over anyway?”
There was a rap on the door.
“You’ll see.” She grinned before practically floating out of the room to answer it.
Four
Presley
Papa B stood beside me on the stoop as I shifted my weight from one foot to the other.
“You know, when you invited me over for lunch, I assumed it would be just the two of us.”
“Well, you know what they say about assuming, don’t you?” He chuckled at his own joke. “Besides, when I told Harriett that my beautiful granddaughter had moved to town, she insisted on having us over for lunch.”
Harriett was Papa B’s lady friend.
Even though they had lived in the same neighborhood for a long time, their budding friendship was something new.
“Still, a little heads-up would’ve been nice. I wouldn’t have shown up empty-handed.”
“You didn’t.” He gestured to the brown paper sack in my hand.
The door opened, and a beautiful elderly woman stood before us in a flower-print dress. Her straight ash-blonde hair was cut into a flattering bob.
“Hello,” she greeted us with a genuine smile that reached all the way to her friendly hazel eyes, causing them to crinkle at the corners. She leaned forward and kissed my grandpa on the cheek. “Ben, I’m so glad you could make it.” She turned her attention to me. “You must be Presley. Your grandfather has told me so much about you. I’m Harriett.” She extended her hand.
I shifted the bag of homemade potato chips Papa B had made to my other hand and placed my right palm in hers. “It’s lovely to meet you, Harriett.”
She kindly shook my hand and waved us inside. “Come in. Come in. We’re letting out all the bought air.”
“Where should I put these?” I gestured to the brown sack.
“You can take those right on into the kitchen.”
I didn’t miss the conspiratorial smile she gave Papa B.
My gaze flitted between them.
The man not only returned Harriett’s smile, but he also winked at her.
Since when does Papa B wink?
I couldn’t tell if they were truly smitten with one another or in cahoots together.
Maybe both.
On my way into the kitchen, I took in the living room.
Decorative pillows and an Avengers backpack adorned an overstuffed mauve sofa, flanked by a pair of round end tables. A box of tissues sat on one while the other held a few neatly stacked word-search booklets and a pair of reading glasses. Two cream-colored armchairs, each with a chenille throw draped over their respective corners, made the space feel warm and inviting.
When I crossed into the kitchen, I stopped short at the sight of a tall man with broad shoulders standing at the counter with his back to me.
I couldn’t help but wonder if he looked half as good from the front as he did from the back.
Feeling like a creeper and not wanting to scare him, I found my voice. “Um, hi. Harriett told me to bring—”
When he turned around, the words died on my tongue, and I nearly lost my grip on the bag of chips.
Is this a joke?
It has to be a joke.
If it was, I didn’t find the humor in it.
But the universe?
That bitch was laughing her ass off.
“So, we meet again.” Ryder smirked, popping one of his dimples.
Kill me now.
Zeke barreled into the kitchen on the heels of Papa B and Harriett. “Mimi, I’m hungry.”
Wordlessly, I set the bag in my hand on the counter.
“We’re going to eat in just a second, sweetheart,” Harriett assured him and then added, “Zeke, say hello to our guests. You remember Ben.”
“Hi, Mr. Ben.” The little boy turned his gaze on me. “Hey, I know you.”
“You do?” Papa B and Harriett asked in unison.
“Hey, Ben.” Ryder went over to my grandfather and extended his hand. “How are you?”
“Fine as frog’s hair.” He clasped Ryder’s palm and shook it. “How do you know my girl?”
“We met the other day.”
“Oh, really?” Papa B’s eyes landed on me.
“Yep. I almost runned her over with my bike. Then, she runned away because him”—Zeke pointed to Ryder—“smelled like Turtle’s farts.”
The kid was too damn cute, and in spite of the awkwardness of the situation, I couldn’t help but laugh.
Ryder relayed the smelly tale of woe.
“It stinked real bad,” Zeke interjected.
“Like being engulfed in the Bog of Eternal Stench,” Ryder agreed.
His Labyrinth reference nearly made me swoon for about half a second.
Zeke tugged on the hem of my navy romper. “Do you ’member me?”
“I do.”
“Why did you run aw
ay?” Zeke pried.
It’s complicated.
I kept the thought to myself. Instead, I told him, “I was just in a hurry.”
Zeke tugged on the fabric at my thigh again. “What’s your name?”
My eyes shifted from the little boy’s and met Ryder’s. Seconds passed while I held his stare.
“It’s Presley.”
I held my breath, not taking my eyes off Ryder.
I waited for a sign of recognition.
A snap of his fingers.
A self-inflicted smack to the forehead.
Some sort of indication that I was more than just the girl he’d randomly saved from face-planting the other day.
Still, I waited.
One second.
Five seconds.
Fifteen seconds.
Nothing.
He really had no clue who I was.
Because nobody ever remembers the average girl.
Unable to take it any longer, I looked away.
“Harriett …” My voice sounded weak. I cleared my throat. “May I use your bathroom?”
“Of course. It’s just down the hall. Second door on the right. Lunch will be ready in just a few minutes.”
My feet began to carry me away before Harriett finished with her directions. Her condo was a cookie-cutter version of my grandfather’s, so I knew where I was going.
I twisted the bathroom doorknob, stepped inside, and closed the door behind me. My fingers gripped the vanity as I stared at my reflection in the mirror.
Maybe I should pretend I don’t know him either.
Acting certainly wasn’t my strong suit. I doubted I could pull it off. Mainly because I had one of those faces that gave me away. If my mouth didn’t say it—and it seldom did—my face definitely would. It was the reason I sucked at poker.
I turned on the faucet and splashed a bit of cool water on my face. Afterward, I used the fluffy cotton-candy-pink embroidered hand towel to pat my skin dry. Then, I mentally gave myself a pep talk before I squared my shoulders and stepped out of the bathroom.
“Oh my God.” My hand flew to my chest when I nearly collided with Ryder.
“I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Sneaking up on people usually has that effect.”
“Well, it wasn’t my intention.”
“It’s fine.” I studied my fingernails, suddenly captivated by the slate-gray polish.