Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 88936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Amory was going to be picking me up in an hour, and Dad had already left with a friend to go to Miller’s. When I had asked if he’d stay home tonight, he had yelled at me about going out to spread my legs and that he wasn’t helping me do that. If Amory had planned for my dad to stay with Grams, then this date wasn’t going to happen.
I took the slice of pie I hadn’t heated up in the oven out, then placed it in a bowl before adding a scoop of vanilla ice cream. Grams was in the living room, watching Wheel of Fortune and complaining about Ryan Seacrest again. She’d called out answers twice, then asked me where Pat had gone and if he was on vacation.
Just when I reached the living room, the doorbell rang, and I paused to glance at it, then went on in to give Grams her pie.
“Here, Grams,” I told her.
“What’s this?”
“The apple pie we made together, remember?” I replied, heading for the door.
“Oh, yes. Well, it sure smells good.”
I checked out the window to see an older lady outside. That was odd. I unlocked the door and opened it up. The lady was petite with a white bob and kind eyes. I hoped she wasn’t here to sell me something or tell me about the Lord. I didn’t want to be rude to her, but those folks were often hard to get to leave.
“Can I help you?” I asked.
“If you’re Royal Shelton, you can,” she replied.
I nodded. “That’s me.”
“Wonderful. I’m at the right place,” she told me, then held out her hand. “My name is Maeme. Amory is one of my many grandsons.”
Oh. OH! Why was his grandmother here?
I shook her hand, waiting for her to explain why she was at my house. My head was spinning with reasons and the fact that I might have to let her come inside. I’d not straightened up yet today. And she was probably as rich as Amory.
She looked around me. “He says you need a little help tonight,” she began as she shifted her eyes back to me. “I’m here to meet your Grams and stay with her while the two of you have a night out.”
He’d sent his grandmother to sit with mine. I didn’t know if I wanted to hit him or hug him. It was incredibly sweet, but he’d seen this house. What was she going to think? She’d tell his parents, and that would be the end of that. Just like Merce’s parents didn’t approve of me. I didn’t care if Amory was a grown man; he wouldn’t want to date someone his family disapproved of. But then wasn’t I, just yesterday, trying to get out of going on a date with him? Perhaps this was for the best. End it before I got attached or started feeling things for him.
I stepped back and motioned for her to come inside. “That’s very kind of you,” I said.
She came inside and smiled brightly as her gaze drifted over the place.
“My boys know I’d do anything for them, but from what he tells me, your Grams is a real treat,” she replied.
I guessed that was her way of saying she was aware Grams had dementia.
“You could say that,” I replied.
“Is that Rosie? Tell her to come have some of the pie we made,” Grams called out.
I licked my lips before explaining, “Rosie is her sister, who died when I was three. Grams often lives in the past.”
Maeme’s eyes softened. “I imagine it is easier there anyway. With happy memories.”
Yes, for my Grams, it definitely was.
“Come this way,” I told her and walked into the first room on the right.
“Grams, we have company. Her name is Maeme. Do you remember the attractive man who came to see us yesterday?” I doubted she did, but she nodded, her eyes wide with curiosity. “Well, this is his grandmother, and he told her all about you. She wanted to come for a visit.”
Maeme clasped her hands together with a big smile. “Your home is just lovely. Did you make that afghan yourself? The colors are brilliant.”
Grams’s eyes lit up as Maeme complemented her home and blanket. “Well, yes, I did. I make them for the children’s group home auction every year, don’t I, Royal? They bring them a real nice price too.”
Grams was sitting up straighter with pride sparkling in her eyes. “Royal, dear, go get, uh …” She paused, forgetting her name.
“Maeme,” I offered, and she nodded with a soft laugh.
“Yes, my memory isn’t what it used to be these days,” she explained, having no idea how sadly accurate she was. “Anyway, go fetch her a slice of our pie. We made a delicious one, and you must have some of it.”
Maeme walked over to the sofa across from Grams. “I’d love some,” she said. “Now, tell me about that afghan. I’d love to hear about it. I used to do needlework years ago, but knitting and crocheting I never could get right. Certainly not like that. You’ve got a talent.”