Page 65 of Make it Real
“I’m probably the best girlfriend you ever had.”
“Ain’t that the truth.”
“Those cookies don’t handle the heat well,” Gran said, interrupting our sparkly stare down. “Better refrigerate yours, or they’ll turn into a mess.”
“Ask her how she knows. She once took a batch of these to a book club meeting, but she ran a whole bunch of errands first. By the time book club started, they were just caramel-chocolate goo. That wasn’t fun to clean up. Sorry, I’m—”
I met Jed’s eyes and swallowed back the rest. His gentle smile reminded me I didn’t need to apologize. After years of saying sorry, it’d probably be a while before I could completely let that old habit go, but it was enough to know he didn’t think I had to.
“Jed, do you by any chance make sausage?” Gran asked.
His eyes went wide, and I must have looked pretty much the same. Okay, so we were really going to have the sausage conversation.
“I’ve never tried. Why do you ask?”
She explained about the meat grinder she’d rediscovered in the bowels of the kitchen. “I don’t see myself having a need for it in Florida, but I thought you might like to take it.”
“That’s kind of you. I think I will.” He turned to me. “Think there’s such a thing as peach sausage?”
“You don’t have to take that.” Even though now, I kind of wanted to know what peach sausage would taste like.
“Why don’t you run it by your house now? Then you can put those cookies in the fridge and not risk ruining them.” Gran’s sweet as pie smile didn’t hide one bit of her deviousness.
“Oh my gosh, let’s go.” I steered Jed out of the kitchen before she could put the pressure on for anything else.
He scooped up the box of metal parts on the way. “Thanks again, Suzie.”
“You kids have fun,” she called after us.
Outside, I shook my head at her brazenness.
“Why do I feel like I missed something?” Jed asked.
I released a baby bear growl of frustration. “I accidentally let it slip that I’ve never seen your apartment. Gran thought that was kind of odd, thus all the pressure for you to take me there. And the meat grinder thing is just strange.”
He stopped next to his truck. “You want to see my place?”
“Well…I mean, I don’t have to, if it’s weird for you.”
“It’s not weird for me. I can take you there right now, it’s on the way to my pop’s.”
“I don’t want to make us late to your family dinner.”
He opened the passenger side of his truck and put the box behind the seats. Then, he took the containers of cookies from me and set them in the back, too. “It’s not tea with the Queen, we can show up when we want.”
“Okay. But I think it’s tea with the King now.”
“Doesn’t have the same ring to it.”
Ten minutes later, he parked in front of a duplex. From the outside, it looked homey and comfortable, but he gave me a sheepish look as though he expected criticism.
“It’s just a rental,” he said, unlocking the door. “Nothing fancy.”
“I have no expectations.”
He pushed the door open, and I crept inside, feeling as though I were peeking in when he wasn’t home even though he stood right next to me. The front room’s big picture window made it bright, and the comfy couch lent a welcoming air. I wandered around the room, trying not to look like a snoop even though I was.
Other than a couple of baseball caps and a stack of books about horticulture, he didn’t have much ofhimin the room. Reminded me a bit of my college dorm room the day I moved in, like it was still waiting for its occupant. And he’d been here three years?
