“I honestly have no idea. I had given up the hope of ever getting a dog a long time ago. I guess I was hoping to look and maybe that would help me decide.”
“Oh, yeah. Go on in. Take your time. And honey, when you find the one that’s supposed to be your baby, you’ll just know.” The woman pushed open the door. The sound of the barking intensified. Lottie paused. “They’ll calm down in a bit. They’re all just really excited for company.”
Lottie walked in, and her heart sank. Nearly all the cages were full. Some dogs jumped and barked. One didn’t even get out of its bed to give her a second look, as though it were resigned to the fact that this was home and always would be.
Lottie walked down the line, greeting each dog she passed by. A few scared her. Most wagged their tails and seemed to be begging her to play. Then Lottie paused. Beautiful brown eyes peered at her from under of mop of gray and white hair.
“Hello there.” Lottie glanced at the sign hanging on the door. “Pickles.” She bent down. He leaned against the chain link gate. Lottie let out an old lady groan, squatted, stuck her fingers through, and scratched him. He panted and grinned. “I shouldn’t have come here because I don’t want to leave you here.”
Lottie sat on the floor, scratching and talking to Pickles until the lady from the front came in and told her they were closing up. She wanted to adopt Pickles then and there, but she decided she better sleep on such a big decision.
“See ya, Pickles.” Lottie waved. “Thanks for letting me spend some time with the dogs.”
“Oh, sweetheart, the dogs love having visitors. You come back anytime you want.”
“I will.” Lottie smiled and walked back to her car. She sat a while in the parking lot before picking up her phone. She held it a moment before texting Grant.
Lottie: I noticed your rescue dog magnet on the back of your car. I’m thinking about getting one and I’m wondering if I could ask you about dog ownership.
She hit SEND and squealed.
What a nerd.
She reread her text.
Ask you about dog ownership? Could I be any lamer?
Lottie drove home, embarrassed at the lameness of her text the whole way.
Chapter Eleven
Grant
All week, Grant and Lottie talked about dogs over lunch. He told her all about his rescue dog, Brutus, who was “the oddest-looking dog,” as people would always tell him. His head and body looked like a German shepherd but with very short legs, like a basset hound. He’d found Brutus running alongside the I-44 in Tulsa, looking terrified, but as soon as Grant pulled over and swung his truck door open, Brutus jumped right in.
For weeks he hung fliers, contacted all the local shelters, and put Brutus’s picture in the local newspapers, Facebook lost and found animal groups, and on Craigslist. Days turned into months with not a word. He figured that Brutus had been dumped along the highway. From the very first day, there was a sense of dread that washed over him every time he got a call from a number he didn’t recognize, worried it would be someone calling to claim Brutus. It never was. “How could anyone not want you in their lives?” he’d ask Brutus. Brutus’s tongue would flop out of the side of his mouth, and he seemed to be smiling as though saying, “Right!”
Sadly, a year ago, Brutus didn’t wake up in the morning. Grant got up and called to Brutus for his walk, but he never came. He searched for him to find him curled up on his bed, unmoving. Tears still readily welled whenever he thought about it, and his heart stung. But he was just happy he’d given Brutus all the love one dog could wish for and that he’d died warm in a soft bed knowing he was loved and wanted.
Grant promised to go to the Altus City Animal Control with Lottie on Saturday afternoon once they’d finish their walk with Nana and Beth around the reservoir. He knew she’d been visiting a little dog called Pickles every day after school that week, but she was nervous about such a big commitment and wanted his opinion. Although it was obvious she had already handed her heart to the little dog. He’d also offered to take her into Lawton to get all the supplies she’d need for her new dog. He was really looking forward to it and was thrilled when she agreed, just as thrilled as he’d been the Tuesday before when she sent him a text asking him if they could discuss dog ownership.
After walking to the door and finding it unlocked, again, he opened it to find himself inside a whirlwind of cleaning. Vinegar stung his nose. Country music was blasting.
“Nana?” Grant called as he kicked off his shoes before heading through the house looking for her. He found her in the bathroom, scrubbing the floor with huge, green rubber gloves on. “What’s going on?”
“Oh, I’ve let this house get out of hand. Time to start cleaning up and make this place shine again.”
“You’ve got the cleanest house I know.”
“Well, maybe it’d been clean enough for just the two of us but not for company.”
“Company?” Grant scratched his head.
“I was having my coffee this morning, and I got a hankering for some pumpernickel bread, so I called up Lorna, and she took me to the grocery store.”
“Lorna is still driving?”
“Well, yeah, she’s still driving. Just because she’s old doesn’t mean she shouldn’t drive. Anyway, I got the pumpernickel and some of that creamy peanut butter I like, and I ran into Tiffany.”
“Who’s Tiffany?”
“Tiffany!” Nana’s eyebrows knitted together. “You remember. From Meers.”
“The waitress?”
“She’s not just a waitress. I’ve known her for years. She’s a lovely little thing. Anyway, I invited her over for dinner tonight. I don’t want her coming over and thinking I’m a pig, so I’ve been working to clean this place up. I got so busy that I didn’t even eat my pumpernickel.”
Grant rubbed the back of his neck. He was feeling a set up, and it wasn’t welcomed. That girl Tiffany was pretty enough, but she was just that, a girl. She couldn’t have been more than twenty-five, and Grant had dated enough twenty-somethings to know that he wasn’t interested, no matter what she looked like.
“Whadya think about that?” Nana paused and looked up at Grant.
“Yeah, great.” Grant pursed his lips and did his best to press them into a smile. “Is there anything I can do to help you?”
“Nope. This is the last room I got going on. I may call you in a bit if I can’t get myself up off this floor. Why don’t you go find something nice to put on?”
“What’s wrong with this?” Grant looked down at his school clothes.
“A man should always spiffy up when a lady is coming to dinner. Work clothes aren’t gonna do it.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Grant turned and walked to his room.
Work clothes aren’t going to do what exactly?
He sighed as he sat down on the corner of his bed, glancing at himself in the mirror.
How am I going to get out of this one?
Maybe he didn’t really need to worry about it anyway. He doubted that a girl that age could be interested in an aging bachelor who worked as a long-term substitute teacher and lived with his grandmother. Sighing, he slouched and shook his head, grinning. Sure. Tiffany had probably been unable to say no to a sweet old lady who had just lost her husband. Surely, she’d feel just as uncomfortable at the prospect of a set up with him. Nothing to worry about.
“Grant, come help your ol’ Nana up, would ya?”
Grant scuttled into the bathroom and pulled Nana up from the floor. He dumped the bucket of barely dirty water she’d used to scrub the floor and put it away.
“What time is she supposed to get here?”
“Six-thirty.”
“Do you need any help making dinner?”
Nana chuckled. “I’ve been making dinner so long, I could do it in my sleep. Not to be rude, honey, but you’d just be in my way.”
“I’m going to go get some work done if you’re sure.”
“I’m sure. And don’t forg
et to change your clothes and put on a tie.”
“I won’t forget.”
Grant returned to his room and pulled out his phone, wanting to text Lottie but unable to figure out a reason he might have. He wasn’t sure if she liked him more than a friend. He didn’t want to scare her off and was determined to play it cool. This was unfamiliar territory for him. Playing it cool had never been difficult. Everything about her made him want to be around her even more. He thought about her way too much. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing that they were having a guest for dinner. Even though he wasn’t interested in Tiffany, she might keep his mind off the urge to text Lottie and ask her to go somewhere, anywhere, with him.
***
The smell of Nana’s beef roast wafted in through the door, waking Grant from a nap. He heard a knock at the door and Nana greeting Tiffany.
Fuck!
Grant sat up, catching a glimpse of his hair smashed to his head on one side. He snuck around his bedroom door and slid into the bathroom. He wetted his hand and ran in quickly through his hair. He squirted some toothpaste onto his toothbrush and crammed it in his mouth while he trying to fix his hair. He found it difficult as both hands tried to work the same motion. He’d never been one of those pat your head and rub your stomach success stories as a kid.
Peeing quickly, he suddenly felt like the sound of his stream was thundering so loudly there was no way they weren’t hearing it. He reached over and turned the faucet on high. After giving his dick a shake, he flushed and washed his hands.
He slowly twisted the knob and pulled open the door, peeking out into the hall before darting back into his room.
“Grant?” Nana called.
“Yes, Nana.” He slowly turned and entered the hallway. Nana and Tiffany were rounding the corner of the dining room.
“Our guest is here.”
“Oh, hey there.” Grant held up his hand and pressed his lips in a smile.
“Tiffany.” The red-haired girl walked toward him, extending her hand.
“Yeah, Tiffany. I remember. From Meers.”
“That’s right. Gosh, your house is so nice.” Tiffany smiled widely and looked around.
“It’s not my house. It’s Nana’s.” Grant’s voice was curt. He hadn’t mean to sound rude, but he knew it came out that way. Nana was shooting daggers right through him. “Sorry, I had fallen asleep. I’m still a big groggy. I apologize.”
“I think it’s so sweet that you moved back to Altus to live. And you’re teaching at Rivers, right?”
“That’s right.” Grant stifled a yawn.
“Welp, why don’t you go out on the patio? It’s a really nice night. I’ll bring you two some drinks. What would you like Tiffany, dear?”
“I’d love a woo woo if you have it.”
Grant raised an eyebrow at Nana, who did her best to wave him away before Tiffany saw.
“What’s a woo woo, honey?”
“Oh, it’s, like, the most amazing drink. It’s vodka, peach schnapps, and cranberry juice.”
“I don’t think I have any cranberry juice. I do have some orange juice.”
“Oooh, a screwdriver. I could go for that. It’s just the vodka and orange juice.” Tiffany turned to Grant and smiled as though she was waking up on Christmas morning.
He pressed his lips into another smile, turned quickly, and pulled open the door to the patio. “After you?” He held his arm out.
“Thanks.” Tiffany brushed past him as she walked by. Close. She didn’t need to be that close.
Fuck!
Now he was sure she probably wasn’t just being polite when she accepted Nana’s dinner invitation. Grant had never been one of those guys that missed the obvious signs that the slightly slutty girls put out. She was into him, and she was making sure he knew it.
“Can I bring you a beer, Grant?” Nana called.
“Bring two!”
Tiffany seated herself on the love seat. She scooted over slightly when he stepped out. He smiled and took a seat in the chair across from her. The air was filled with awkward silence. Grant took a deep breath, smiled, and looked around at the wood privacy fence that lined the backyard.
“Looks like I need to do some repairs on the fence. There’s so much to do around here, I’m going to be quite busy for a while with school. No time for much of anything else.”
“Oh, I’m sure that’s not true.” Tiffany held his gaze for a little too long.
He forced a smile once again. “Maybe I should go help Nana with those drinks.” Grant stood, and as he opened the door, Nana was right there with a tray.
“Oh, Grant. Good timing.”
He took the tray from her. Nana sat in his chair.
Fuck!
He’d have to sit next to Tiffany.
She touched his finger as he handed her the glass and smiled up at him as she did. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
He handed Nana her drink, set the tray on the table, grabbed his beer, taking a big gulp before sitting down next to Tiffany.
“So, Nana, how long until dinner is ready?” He raised a brow at her.
“It’ll be ready soon.” Nana waved her hand at him. He knew he was going to get an earful after Tiffany left. She looked at him the exact same way she used to look at him when she caught him dozing off at church. Or like she did the time she caught him tossing little wads of paper into Miss Lorna’s gray hair. She took him out to the parking lot and gave him a crack on the ass that time. Certainly, he was too old to be spanked anymore. He straightened in his seat. Best not to assume with Nana.
“So how long have you been working at Meers, Tiffany?” Grant smiled and looked at Nana from the corner of his eye, hoping she’d be pleased with his change in behavior.
“I’ve been working there since I graduated high school, so six years now.”
A waitress for six years. Did Nana really think he’d have anything in common with a twenty-four-year-old girl, let alone be able to have a relationship with one?
“Tiffany goes to Western Oklahoma State College,” Nana added, smiling from ear to ear.
“What are you studying?” Grant asked.
“I’m getting my associates degree in early childhood education. I love kids. I’d like to have a bunch of my own someday.” Tiffany tilted her head and batted her eyes at Grant.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuuuuuuuuck!
“Do you like kids, Grant?” She looked longingly at him.
Was this girl for real? Grant took a big swig of his beer, looking at Nana long and hard before answering. He wanted to say, “Not with you, crazy,” but he thought better of it. “I haven’t really thought about it.”
“Oh, sure you have, Grant.” Nana waved him off. “Welp, dinner should be ready. What’s say we go inside and eat?”
“Great idea.” Grant hopped up and opened the door for the ladies. “I’ll be in there in a minute. Just want to wash my hands.” He watched as Nana and Tiffany rounded the corner into the dining room. He slipped into his room and grabbed his cell, quickly texting Dan Cooley to call him in half an hour.
He slid the phone in his pocket and walked to the table. Nana had seated him across from Tiffany. He sat down, relieved. At least it wasn’t right next to her.
“Grant, would you say grace?” Nana smiled, folded her hands, and lowered her head. Tiffany did the same.
Grant rolled his eyes. “Dear God. Thanks for the food which we’re gonna eat. Amen.”
“Amen.” Nana and Tiffany began chit chatting about Tiffany’s culinary skills and how she’d have to come over and learn this delicious roast recipe from Nana sometime. Grant formulated ways in his mind that he was going to escape this trap they seemed to be setting for him. He eyeballed Nana. What was she doing? He told her how he felt about Lottie.
Thirty minutes passed, and like the good, reliable friend that he was, Dan Cooley called. Grant gave a few “uh-huhs” and “Oh, reallys” as Dan blabbered on, wondering what he needed to be saved from.
Grant ended with a “sure, I’ll be right there, Dan.” He stood and apologized to Tiffany and Nana. “I’m afraid I’ve got to go. Dan’s car broke down, and he’s trapped halfway out to Lawton. I’ve got to go pick him up.”
Tiffany’s face dropped. Grant would have felt bad, only he didn’t at all. It was better she be disappointed now than for her to weave this trap with Nana and still come up empty.
“Well, that’s such a shame.” Nana’s face suddenly brightened. “You know what? We’ll just have to make it up over another dinner. Sound good?”
“I’d love to!” Tiffany beamed.
Grant pursed his lips. “Great.”
He grabbed his keys and headed out the door.
Chapter Twelve
Lottie
Lottie’s eyes sprung open for the first time on a Saturday morning when the alarm squawked at her. She didn’t slam it. She didn’t tell it to shut up. She didn’t even sink her head back into the pillow and think about how an early death caused by obesity was just fine with her. The long dirt nap and lack of exercise no longer sounded as appealing.
Grant was coming along today. Her mind raced. Should she wear some makeup? Maybe a little, but not too much, she decided. Best to try to make it look like she wasn’t wearing any. A little light foundation, some brown mascara, and tinted lip balm. Her stomach flipped. Was it excitement, or was she getting the nervous shits that always struck her before she had something important looming?
Her first day teaching, she thought she might miss school. Every time she went to grab her keys and bags, she’d have to dart back down the hallway to squeeze out a fresh batch of diarrhea.
Oh, please don’t let me have the cha-chas today.
Easy Love Page 9