Page 36 of Mav

Giggling, I look at Ed. “Well, PawPaw, tell me about this issue you have with walking and your hands, hm…”

“Oh…” Ed flushes a glorious shade of red, and I throw my head back, laughing.

The rest of my evening is spent with me getting all my cleaning done and Ed following me talking about what we can do together, how he’s going to be the best grandfather on the planet, and if anyone messes with me he’s going to shoot holes in their asses for them as he still has his shotgun.

Back at home, I get a message from Bitty, which surprises me, as she hardly ever sends me a text message.

Mama: I’ve got it organized

Blake: What have you organized?

Mama: Evicting that piece of trash

Blake: Um, what have you organized?

Mama: Oh, I’ve got my boy onboard, and he’s going to make sure that shit leaves the house

Blake: When is this going to happen? As it would be best for me to be present.

Mama: 9 on Sunday morning (smiling emoji)

Blake: I’ll be there

Mama: OK.

Lying in bed, I’m thinking about having a crazy mother and a grandfather that are about the same damn age, and they are both crazy coots. But I can’t hold back the smile thinking about them both. I’ve struck lucky, I’m thinking.

Saturday and date night again, I hope it is a better one than the last because I’m not going to keep trying again, and again. I like Mav, and I enjoyed our last date up to that awful woman turning up.

I rush through my morning chores with my clients, much to Ed’s upset, but when I explain I’m going on a date, he’s all ears. Of course, that meant I had to tell him all about Mav, what I know about him, anyway. I even told him about the woman and what happened, and Bitty organizing a second date. PawPaw, as I am told to think of and call him, explains he’ll be checking in with Bitty to find out if this Mav, as he called him, is responsible and worth my time.

Well, I’m ready and waiting for Mav to pick me up for our date. I’m wearing a cotton summer dress with thin straps, cowboy boots and a denim jacket. I’m not making more of an effort than I need to as we’re going to TJs and I fully expect to either fend off women that are looking for a biker, or storming out of our date once more.

Knocking on the door grabs my attention, and I pick up my purse before opening it. Mav is standing looking slick in his motorcycle jacket with clean jeans and polished biker boots. I look up and see the smirk on his face. “Like what you see?”

“God, I hope it’s not going to be an awful night,” I mumble to myself as I close and lock the front door.

“It’s going to be a good night, Blake.” Mav chuckles more to himself than to me, but he guides me to an SUV and opens the door, helping me climb in before quickly making his way around to the driver's side.

“So, have you had a pleasant week?” Mav asks.

“I have. Thank you for asking. I gained myself a grandfather.”

“What do you mean, you gained a grandfather?”

“Well, I’m working for the cleaning company, and one of my clients is a great senior. He’s bored out of his pants if I’m being honest. So, with Bitty claiming me as a daughter, I claimed Ed as a grandfather, so now I have to call him PawPaw.” I can’t stop the giggle that bursts out of me, because honestly calling him that seems so strange.

We continue with general chit chat until we arrive at TJs and quickly make our way inside. Mav has his hand resting on the bottom of my back, just before my butt, and he’s showing I’m with him, so everyone needs to stay away from us. It’s a pleasant feeling if I’m being honest with myself.

“Let’s sit in that booth. I’ll get us a drink and then we’ll get something to eat if you’re hungry?”

I take a seat and look at Mav as he’s waiting for my reply, “I’m not hungry to be honest, but I’ll have a Batanga, please,” I’ve had this once previously. It’s tequila, lime juice and coke. I will only have the one drink of Batanga before sticking to coke the rest of the evening.

Bringing our drinks and placing them on the table, Mav takes a seat and we talk about our jobs. Mav surprises me when he tells me he’s a bouncer, come doorman, depending on what you want to call them. He also has been involved in martial arts and competitive fighting matches.

I put my drink down when a couple walk past and I’m not sure if I recognize them or not, but they are wearing costumes that are from the 1920s. The woman even has one of those long cigarette holders in her hand.

My eyes flick to Mav and he’s watching my expression, which must have flicked through from surprise to amusement. I can’t help but ask, “Is it theme night? If I’d known, I would have been willing to get myself one of those dresses with fringes around the bottom, or even all over them. I would have enjoyed that, would have been fun.”

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