Page 87 of Endgame

Genuinely laughing.

It wasn’t a sound I had heard too often and I soaked it in. The woman standing in front of the stove wasn’t Britt, or any other boney ass blonde from school – I presumed Rourke went for the anorexic blonde look.

No, this woman was old and grey and wrinkled. She was low in height and slightly hunched over the stove. She was using one hand to stir a pot with a wooden spoon. The other, she was using to pinch what I presumed was Rourke’s cheek.

I cleared my throat, not wanting to startle the old lady, and was immediately met with a pair of piercing blue eyes.

“Hey,” Rourke acknowledged in an actual civilized tone. “You’re home.”

Home? I almost laughed at the way he worded that sentence. The curious pair of grey eyes were what halted me in my tracks. “Hey,” I replied lamely instead.

“Oh,” he muttered when he noticed me eyeing up the old lady. “You two haven’t met yet. Frannie, this is Six, Cassidy’s daughter.” He smiled fondly down at the old lady. “Six, this is Fran. Our…” He paused for a moment, obviously thinking about her title. “Fran brought us up,” he finally settled on.

“Hello, Fran.” For some strange reason, I was incredibly nervous meeting this lady. I had no idea why, but I had a very strong feeling that I needed to make a good impression. “It’s nice to meet you.” Gabe had mentioned a lady named Fran would pop in and check on us once a week while he and Mom were away, but he had described a housekeeper. It was obvious to me that Rourke held this little old lady in much higher prestige.

“Now, boy, I know you ain’t gone and christened this pretty young thing a dang number like the others,” Fran said. Rourke shrugged sheepishly and she slapped his hand. “Dang it, Rourke,” she muttered when he didn’t deny it. “What’d I tell you ‘bout name calling?”

“It’s fine,” I heard myself say. “It’s more of a running joke between us.”

“See?” Rourke looked oddly relieved as he looked over at me and winked. “It’s my pet name for her.”

Fran walked slowly towards me and took my hand in both of hers, smiling the entire time. “Good to finally meet you…”

“Mercedes James,” I filled in awkwardly.

“Mercedes James.” Fran beamed at me, her frail hands shaking as she held onto my hand. “What a fine name that is.” She looked back at Rourke and winked. “What a fine young lady she is.” Immediately, I turned scarlet. “You got a young man calling on you, Mercedes James?”

“Ugh…no,” I spluttered, mortified. “Not at all.”

“Ya hear that, Rourke?” Fran said, not one bit conspicuous. “Mercedes’ here’s a free agent. Same as you.”

Rourke looked uncomfortable as he spoke. “Six is Cassidy’s daughter, Fran. You remember Dad’s wife Cassidy?”

“I ain’t lost my mind yet, boy,” Fran shot back. “Course I remember Cass.”

“Mercedes is my stepsister, Fran,” Rourke clarified with a frown.

“Pssh. Step-whepp.” Fran batted the air. “Ain’t no mixed bloodlines here.”

“Christ,” Rourke muttered under his breath before running a hand through his hair. “Are you staying for dinner, Fran?” He was desperate to change the subject. It was obvious.

“And miss my program?” Fran replied incredulously. I watched as she snatched a large brown purse from the counter and tossed it over her shoulder. “Hell no.”

I laughed out loud. I probably shouldn’t have, but there was something warming about hearing an old lady cuss.

“You take good care of yourself, Mercedes James,” Fran ordered with a smile before pottering over to Rourke and placing a loud kiss on his cheek. “Rourky Porky, you make sure you eat your dinner now, ya hear?” He turned bright pink. I snickered at the endearment. He loved this old lady. It was obvious.

“You sure you’re okay driving home, Fran?” Rourke called after her.

“Boy, I was driving long before you were a twinkle in your daddy’s eye,” she called back. “Nighty-night.” The sound of the front door closing filled my ears and I snickered loudly.

“Omigod,” I laughed, unable to smother my grin.

“Don’t say a word,” Rourke warned me with a reluctant smirk on his face.

“Come here, Rorky-Porky,” I teased as I prowled towards him with my hand out, fingers positioned like pincers. “Gimme a squeeze.”

“Six, I’m warning you.” He laughed and jerked backwards, unintentionally backing himself up against the counter. “Don’t you dare.”

---