“Oh, so that’s what changed? Your grandparents got hold of you, and that’s why you’re all…” She gestured up and down at me.
I shot a bemused look at her. “All what?”
“You know.”
“No, I really don’t.” I was enjoying this already. Even the news I’d gotten last night that Pops had asked for one more day before making his decision on surgery wasn’t bothering me as much. “What?”
“Nice. You’re nice.”
“You sure know how to flatter a guy.”
“It’s a good thing. A lot more guys could use a little nice to their personalities.”
Something about her tone made me want to pull over so I could see her clearly.
Instead, I just asked, nonchalantly, of course, as if the answer wasn’t more important than my safe driving. “Did you know some not-nice guys, then?”
She scoffed. “Lots. Would have married one of them.”
My hands tightened on the wheel. “Why didn’t you?”
“He broke up with me.”
I couldn’t help looking over at her then. But I quickly glanced back at the road. “He’s an idiot.”
“Thank you, I agree.”
A laugh took me by surprise. “I take it you’re not too bent up about it then?”
“It’s been two years, I’m over it. Learned my lesson and moved on.”
I almost didn’t want to ask. “What lesson was that?”
She was quiet for several seconds before she said, with bravado that was clear as glass, showing the false confidence beneath, “That I like my men fictional and… and real ones don’t measure up.”
I tried not to laugh. I really did.
“Don’t laugh at me!”
“I’m sorry, it’s just—fictional men? Really?”
“Find me a guy as great as Gilbert Blythe, and we can talk. Or Captain Wentworth, Mr. Thornton, Westley.” She ticked them off on her fingers. “I’m not picky.”
“I open your doors, that’s gotta count for something,” I said, unsuccessfully keeping the amusement out of my voice.
“If you counted, I would hope you have more good qualities than ingrained chivalry, though I’ll admit that is more than some of the guys I’ve dated.”
“IfI counted?”
“Yeah,” she said as if that was the most obvious thing.
Apparently, I needed glasses because I couldn’t see at all what she meant.
My phone started buzzing, and the ringtone played through the car. I glanced at Lucy. “Mind if I…”
“Not at all.”
I pressedthe answer button on the dashboard. “Hey, Gram, you’re on speakerphone.”