Page 44 of Grand Slam

Opening the door, I flip on the light and she lets out a little squeal. “Oh my!” It’s a private room that overlooks the side yard. “It has the best view of the flower garden. The previous owner planted a little bit of everything and the realtor says it get wild with colors.”

“Kelton, this should be your room.”

“No, this one is yours, there is actually two side by side. The other is for Liz,” I tell her. “I’ll show you mine.” And Emerson’s I hope.

As I walk through the house I show her a few other things until I reach the door of my bedroom. “Ready?”

“Yes.” I hear her clap with excitement and laugh as I push open the door. Instantly she starts the girly noises of excitement all over again. “I see why this one is yours.”

It overlooks the biggest part of the backyard. The entire back wall is lined with windows. Reflective glass, giving privacy from the backyard, but I get the open feel from inside.

“Those windows are actually doors that slide open.” I grab the handle and pull open the two large glass walls. “Then I can walk right out onto the patio and take a swim.”

“It’s beautiful,” she says and instantly a warmth washes over me. She’s proud, and I know it’s genuine. My father, I’d never get this from him. He’d only tell me instead how it was excessive and how the large bedroom was a waste of space when all I needed was a bed. The oversized tub in the bathroom, well that’s just ridiculous. No one needs a tub or shower that big.

“Now I just need to get Liz and Em back here to start decorating this place.”

“When is the next trip?”

“Not sure,” I say, walking back toward the kitchen. “They’re acting weird.”

“Weird how?”

I sit down at the bar, turning the phone around so that we are now looking at one another. Her hair is all twisted up in curlers and she’s got some goo on her face that makes me laugh.

“It’s hell getting old boy, now go on.” She waves her hand for me to continue. “How are they acting weird?”

“Emerson has rushed off the phone the last couple times we’ve talked and Alizabeth can’t lie for shit.” I drag my hand over my face. “Sorry Gran, crap. She can’t lie for crap.”

Still to this day I don’t feel right cussing in front of Gran. She’s a tiny little woman, no more than one hundred and ten pounds, and I still fear her. She is my idol. Since the day my mom passed, the woman has been my only parent.

My father checked out the minute my mom got sick, before that if I’m being honest.

“Why is she lying?”

“I don’t know, but I can tell she is. I ask how Emerson is doing and she changes the subject. I push harder and she lies harder.”

“Saw them both last night and they seemed fine.” I am fully aware of the fact that I’ve given her something to dig into. Gran hates more than anything being kept in the dark. “We had strawberry shortcakes, sat on the back porch for some tea.”

I can tell her mind is spinning.

“Emerson seemed a little tired, kept yawning over and over. Other than that we had ourselves a little girls’ night. This old woman likes some company now and again so it was nice to have them over.”

“What about bridge and craft club?”

“You mean, booze fest and gossip hour?” She laughs. “Those ladies drive me crazy, I stopped going weeks ago. Got tired of hearing about Helen’s corns and Martha’s arthritis. We all have problems, but those ladies think they are the only ones.”

I can’t help but smile, imagining my little gran rolling her eyes.

“We are old, yes. But damn it we don’t have to act like it. It’s like they’re all knocking on death’s door waiting for someone to answer. Me, I’m nailing two by fours across that door ten deep to keep the bastards from taking me.”

“Because you are too ornery to go anywhere.”

“Damn right I am.” She cackles. “Now you stop worrying about those two hiding anything. You give me two days tops and I’ll have them singing all their secrets like canaries. I’ll know every last detail and if there is anything I think you might need to know, I’ll give you a ring. But in my opinion I think you might be looking for something that ain’t there.”

“You need to set up another visit, Gran,” I tell her. “Only this time leave the grump at home.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

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