Grant scrambled off the bed and walked around to the end to find the old woman crouched down and struggling to hold in giggles.
“How old are you?” Grant put a hand on his hip and shook his head. A smile spread across his face.
“Not too old to enjoy a little prank but too old to get up off of this floor myself. Give your ol’ Nana a hand, would ya?”
“Nah, I think I’ll just leave you there and I’ll go enjoy some burgers at Meers on my own.”
“Boo! Don’t be so mean to your ol’ nana. I just couldn’t help myself. Don’t ya remember when you were a little boy and you used to lay on the couch and stick your smelly little feet on my lap to tickle?”
“I was five.”
Nana held her hand out once more. “C’mon, help me up.”
Grant took her hands and pulled her up off the floor. “I’ll get you back for this.”
“No need. I’ll pay for your burger tonight. Nana’s treat.”
“Well, you should know that I’m extra hungry and think I’ll eat two. Maybe three.”
Nana headed for the bedroom door. “I’ll give you some time to comb that hair and scrape away that horrible nap breath. I’ll grab my purse and wait for you in the living room.”
In the bathroom, Grant ran his fingers through his hair and brushed his teeth. He headed into the bedroom and grabbed his phone, checking it quickly for any messages.
Nothing.
Nana was waiting for him in the living room. He helped her up out of the chair and headed toward the front door where they both sat on the bench and slid on their shoes. Grant stood, offering Nana his arm. “M’lady.”
She took it, and they headed out. Grant locked the house and opened the truck door for Nana.
“I just love this ol’ truck. I remember when your papa first bought it. You really made it look just like new again.”
Grant smiled and shut the door. He ran around to the driver’s side and jumped in. They headed off toward Meers. Nana talked the whole way about the first time she met Papa Joe, never again mentioning the indiscretion she’d admitted to the other night. No wonder no one ever knew that something like that had ever transpired between them. It seemed that she focused on all the good times, and in the grand scheme of their lives together, Grant figured those must’ve outweighed any mistakes by far. He smiled as he glanced at Nana and the way her eyes gleamed with happiness and tears when she talked about Papa Joe.
“We used to go to Meers once a month, you know? Your papa loved the peach cobbler, and he’d always overeat. I’d always say, ‘Save room, Joe,’ but he’d stuff himself silly before the dessert even arrived. But you know, he’d finish every bite, and he’d be in such pain, I’d always have to drive home, and he’d unbutton his pants in the front seat and lay it way back.”
Nana pulled her embroidered handkerchief from her purse and dabbed her eyes. Grant rubbed her shoulder. “I know you miss him.”
They pulled into the parking lot of Meers, which was already bustling, a line stretched out the door. “Oh, would you look at all the people.”
“You sure you want to stand in line, Nana? We can go somewhere else.”
“When I got a Meersburger on my mind, nothing else is gonna do.”
Grant helped Nana out of the truck and offered her his arm again. She took it and held on tight; the kitten heels she insisted on wearing clacked along the pavement. “Your Papa Joe always said I had good gams and even a little heel shows them off,” Nana said when Grant glanced down at her shoes. Nana was also the only woman over the age of seventy-five who wore skirts that weren’t floor length. He remembered her always shaking her head whenever she looked at women in long skirts and saying, “It’s hot as hell, and I’m not going to sweat like a pig to hide a few spider veins. Besides, I don’t know how anyone can walk in those long skirts without tripping on them and breaking a hip.”
The line moved faster than they’d expected, and they were seated in no time. Grant looked at the crowds around them and across the table at Nana. “With so many people in the world, why is it so easy to feel so lonely?”
Nana looked around at all the people and took Grant’s hand, holding it in both of hers. “Because numbers don’t count, connections do. If you’re not connected to anyone, all the people around you may as well be invisible.”
Grant reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and glanced at it.
Nothing.
The waitress arrived at the table with two waters and a notepad. “Well, hello, Mrs. Ryan. We haven’t seen you in a while. I was starting to wonder if you got sick of our burgers.”
Nana’s eyes welled with tears. She took a deep breath. “Hey, Tiffany. I’m afraid to say that my darling Joe passed.” She once again pulled the hanky from her purse and buried her eyes in it momentarily, dabbed them at the corners, and looked up at the waitress who was clutching her chest. “Oh, Mrs. Ryan. Please accept my sincerest condolences. He was such a kind man.”
“Thank you, dear girl.” Nana stretched out her hand, took Tiffany’s, and gave it a squeeze. Then she motioned to Grant. “This is my grandson, Grant. He’s moved home to take care of his ol’ nana.”
Tiffany nodded at him. “Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too.” Grant smiled.
The freckles on Tiffany’s cheeks pushed up as she smiled at him. A lock of her red hair spilled down over her eye. She quickly pushed it out of the way and tried to tuck it under a barrette. “I’m sorry.” She set her tablet on the table to try to do a better job at tucking her red hair away. “I’m trying to grow my bangs out, but they’re still too short to keep pulled back and too long to leave down.”
“It looks pretty, doesn’t it, Grant?” Nana smiled and winked at him.
“Yes, very pretty.” Grant tilted his head at Nana. Did she really bring him to Meers just because she was craving a burger, or did she have other motives? He smiled at Tiffany, who was, indeed, very pretty.
Chapter Ten
Lottie
“Shut up.” Lottie repeatedly poked her phone, trying to get the morning alarm to turn off. She groaned when she rolled over and tried to sit up. The pain in her crotch was unreal. She regretted the decision to take the spin class even more than she had when the instructor kept shouting for them to turn the tension up.
“Fuck that,” she’d muttered to Beth over and over. Putting her hand on the knob and pretending to give it “another quarter turn.” Droplets of sweat covered the floor below her, and she was pretty sure her red head would pop. Beth would giggle, reaching over and pinching the flab of her ass that hung over the seat. “Knock it off, butthole.”
As hard as Beth laughed looking over at her, Lottie tried to will her to fall off the bike and onto the floor, making an ass out of herself in front of the whole class. She’d never been so happy as when the class was over. Even at that time, she had no idea of the pain that would scream from her cooter. If she didn’t know better, she would’ve believed gnomes snuck into her room at night and kicked the shit out of her vag.
Lottie got up and waddled into the bathroom. Walking and sitting to pee were both equally painful. She peeled off her clothes and hopped into the shower. And although she had never been a bath person, she considered filling the tub to soak her battered lady parts in some warm, soothing water.
Once out of the shower, she gently patted herself dry, wincing as she stepped into her panties and her skirt. She searched her closet for flats. There was no way she was going to try to balance on any bit of a heel when she was waddling like a duck. Could she call in sick citing cooter pain from spin class as her reason for being out? She considered killing Beth. She’d certainly never told her about the vaginal whooping she’d take. Surely, she’d felt like this her first time.
Lottie finished getting ready and waddled into the kitchen, pulling open the refrigerator before slamming it shut again. She’d much rather starve herself than work out.
You don’t have to burn calor
ies you don’t eat, right?
She’d eat nothing but lettuce, celery, and carrots for a week if it meant she could skip spin class. And she’d happily walk more. Maybe she’d head to the base track after work. She could change after class and walk a few miles after work every day. And she was certain she’d read somewhere that a glass of red wine in the evening was as good for your heart as an hour workout at the gym. Sure, she preferred beer and had always hated red wine, but she’d rather choke it down than waddle around from such pain all the time. Even though the music at spin class was good, and everyone there seemed to be having fun, she didn’t, and she could listen to good, loud music while she ate a salad.
Lottie grabbed her tote, purse, and keys and headed out the door. As she was walking to her car, her old neighbor whizzed by on the red Vespa that should have been hers, and it was the first time she was glad she didn’t own it. She couldn’t imagine riding that thing all the way to work now. She groaned and lowered herself into her car.
As she arrived at work and parked, Grant pulled up and parked nearby.
“Great.” She fumbled to gather her stuff and try to get out of her car before he made his way over and heard her making old lady noises as she tried to climb out. Grabbing her tote and purse, she slammed the car door and tried her best to quickly walk in without looking like she had something shoved up her rear end.
“Lottie!” she heard Grant call after her.
Shit!
“Oh, hey, Grant.” Lottie turned and waited for him. “I didn’t see you drive in. How are you doing?”
“I’m doin’ great. Ready for my second day and maybe getting around to some actual teaching.” He smiled.
He had an amazing smile. She was doing her best to match his, but she was worried hers looked fake and plastic. Her cooter screamed with every step. Damn Beth. Why did she have to have a friend that was into exercise? Note to self: when Beth moves, make a fat friend next. Her stomach sank as soon as she thought it. She’d exercise every day to keep Beth from moving to another base.
“Can I carry your bag for you? It looks a little heavy.” Grant extended his arm.
“Uh, sure.” She handed Grant her tote and tucked her hair behind her ear. She felt just like Winnie Cooper in that episode of The Wonder Years where Kevin Arnold carries her books. She’d love to be his Winnie Cooper, but she was pretty sure it was more likely that he was going to be hers. Yes, looking at his dark blond hair in the sunlight this morning, she could almost hear the magical Winnie Cooper music playing as he gathered the straps of her tote, carrying it in one hand and his old, worn leather briefcase in the other. Although holding both, he still reached out and opened the door for her.
“Thank you,” she said as she passed by.
“You’re welcome.” Grant walked with her to the teachers’ lounge.
Lottie lowered herself onto the farting couch slowly. First, not to hurt her cooter, and second to avoid the fart sound that would surely come if she flopped down too quickly.
Grant placed her tote on the seat next to her. “Can I get you some coffee?”
“I’m not sure I’m desperate enough.” Lottie smiled.
“I have some of Nana’s coffee in a thermos in my briefcase. I’ll pour you a cup. I don’t need a whole thermos-full anyway.”
“Sure, I’d love that.”
“How do you take it?”
“Some half and half, no sugar.”
“Gotcha.”
Normally, she did take sugar, but she had to start cutting back on calories somewhere, sometime. Grant pulled a long, thin thermos from his briefcase and walked over to the coffee station.
Lottie winced as Beth plopped down on the couch next to her.
“Hey, Lot! What’s wrong with you? You look constipated.”
“I’m not constipated.” Lottie whispered the word constipated. “I’m sore from spin. It feels like someone took a baseball bat to my cooter.”
“Oh, yeah. I forgot about that.” Beth laughed. “It’s been a long time since my first class.”
Grant walked over and handed Lottie the cup.
“Just getting you ready for a real pounding,” Beth muttered and nudged Lottie in the ribs.
“Would you shut up?” Lottie shook her head and glared at Beth before softening her face and looking up to Grant. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Would you like some coffee, Beth? I brought some from home.”
“Hell, yeah. Anything to skip out on Cooley’s crap.”
Grant returned to the paper cups.
“Check out that ass,” Beth whispered in Lottie’s ear.
“You’re a pervert. You know that?”
“Oh, right. Like you weren’t looking. Like that ass isn’t the reason you suddenly decided to get your ass in better shape.”
Grant returned with the coffee, handing it to Beth, who took a sip. “Mmm, Grant. Now this is coffee. I may start swinging by your nana’s house instead of the White Buffalo in the morning.”
“I’ll let her know you said so.” Grant smiled as he tightened the cap on his thermos and returned it to his briefcase. He sat in the chair next to Lottie.
Lottie took a sip of the coffee.
“I hope I fixed it okay.”
“It’s perfect.” Lottie smiled. It was. The fact that he’d made it for her made up for the lack of sugar. She could learn to get used to this.
“Welp, I guess we better get our sore asses to class, eh, Lottie?” Beth took another sip from her coffee and extended her hand.
“What are y’all sore from?” Grant picked up Lottie’s tote as Beth pulled her from the couch.
She winced. “I went to spin class with Beth last night.”
“I forgot to warn her about the pain that comes from getting used to a bike seat.” Beth pointed to her ass.
Lottie flushed and shook her head at Beth. “You don’t even know him. He doesn’t know how gross you are yet.”
“Well, he’s one of us now, so he better learn. Especially since he’s coming to the reservoir with us. I can’t be expected to behave all the time.”
“You better behave. His nana is coming, remember? Is she coming?” Lottie took a step forward, and the walk out of the teachers’ lounge and to her room never seemed longer.
“Yeah. She’s looking forward to it. And you don’t have to worry about behaving for Nana, Beth. I’m not sure I can promise that she’ll behave.”
“Awesome. Well, I’m looking forward to meeting her, then.” Beth swept out the room and down the hall.
“I can take my tote.” Lottie reached out to grab it.
“I don’t mind carrying it. I’m headed the same way.”
“Thanks.” Lottie smiled. He held out his arm for her as they walked through the lounge door and down the hall. Grant placed her tote on her desk as she lowered herself into the seat while wincing.
“That bad, huh? Remind me never to take a spin class.” He grinned.
“Sure. As long as you promise to remind me never to take a spin class again.”
“Deal. See you at lunch?”
“Sure. I’ll see you then.” Lottie snuck a peek at Grant’s ass as he walked out of the room. He turned before leaving. Had he caught her looking? The grin on his face before he walked out assured her that he probably had.
***
The day was torture. Lottie was what she’d call a bad teacher. A “teach from the desk—here do this word search” teacher. But moving around was misery. Usually, she was on her feet most of the day. At lunch, Grant had brought her some ibuprofen, and that had helped a bit. Beth stopped by, insisting that it was only like that after the first time, but Lottie gave her the side eye, not knowing if she could bring herself to find out. At the end of the day, Grant offered to carry her things and walked her to her car.
Her mind kept flashing back to the thought of him catching her looking at his ass and wondering if he’d really caught her or not. She was seated, after all, so a straight-ahead line of
vision would have taken her eyes that way. If he had seen, he didn’t seem to mind. He was still talking to her. She wouldn’t have minded if she caught him looking at hers.
Lottie climbed into her car. Grant handed her the tote, and she leaned over and put it into the passenger seat.
“See you tomorrow, Lottie.”
“Yeah, see ya, Grant.”
He closed her door and headed over to his truck. She watched him climb in and back out of his spot. She waved in the rearview as he drove behind. She backed out and followed behind. She once again noticed the I ❤ MY RESCUE magnet on the back of his car. Oh, yeah. He had a dog. Lottie made a mental note to ask him about his dog. She loved dogs and had always wanted one, but David told her it was too hard to move with a dog and never would let her get one.
Lottie’s drive took her to the Altus City Animal Control. She’d driven by before but never wanted to go in, worried that she’d fall in love with some furry face that she knew she could never have. After sitting in the parking lot for a little while, Lottie pushed open her door and groaned as she climbed out. It probably would have been a good idea to wait for a different day to go looking at dogs, but she figured that since she was in pain, she wouldn’t be lifting and cuddling anyone, lessening her chances of falling in love and taking anyone home.
Walking into the front office, she was a little taken back at the sounds of the barking dogs echoing from the next room.
A gruff-looking woman with bleach blonde hair and 1990s-style bangs smiled at her. “You come to find a friend, darlin?” Her voice was stained with a chain-smoking habit of at least forty years.
“I’m thinking about it. Maybe not today. I mean, I’ve always wanted a dog.”
“You know, I could tell you were a dog person when you came in.”
“Really? How?”
“You know, it’s a look in the eye. Cat people don’t make eye contact when they come in. They seem shier. You look a little shy, but you connected your eyes to mine right away, and there’s a brightness behind your eyes that dog people tend to have. I’m not saying cat people are dim, ya got me?” The woman threw her head back and cackled as she pushed her way out from behind the counter. “Were you thinking of a big dog? Little dog? Something in between?”
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