Page 35 of Phishing for Love
“You’re right. Sorry.” To appease her, I twirl some spaghetti around my fork and shove it into my mouth. “It’s good.”
“Of course, it’s good. I’ve been making this dish for over forty years.”
“It’s my favorite.”
“I know.” She squeezes my forearm resting on the table. “Why do you think I make it?”
The love behind her words wraps around me like a warm, cozy blanket and I snuggle into it. Once a month, Mom drops Grandma off at my house while she attends her local book club. Honestly, I think there’s more talk of what’s happening in the neighborhood than any overarching literary themes, but it gets my mom out the house and she seems to have fun.
Meanwhile, I enjoy the fact that it’s just Grandma and me for the evening. She brings over the meal she’s made that afternoon, and we chat over dinner. Sometimes we play cards; other times we watch a game show on TV and shout out the answers. I love our evenings together. Best of all, there’s no Google so I’m spared the ongoing feud.
She dabs her mouth with a napkin. “Okay, spit out whatever’s bothering you.”
“How can you tell?”
“I wasn’t born yesterday.”
I play with my napkin. “There’s a guy.”
Grandma snorts. “There’s almost always a guy.”
“He rubs me the wrong way.”
“The best ones always do.”
“Grandma!”
She shrugs. “It’s true.” Her green eyes shine with memories. “Your grandfather used to drive me up the wall, constantlychallenging my opinions, calling me on my moods. And, boy, I adored him for it.”
Tears sting my eyes at the love in her voice.
It’s bittersweet for my grandmother every time she visits me in her old home. She took her bed and couch when she moved in with my parents, but I’ve kept the rest of her furniture pretty much as she had it when she lived here. I know she’s comforted by the familiarity of the house and all the memories here, but she’s also saddened that my grandfather’s no longer around to create new memories.
Grandma puts down her knife and fork, her expression speculative. “I’m assuming this guy isn’t Nathan?”
Shame prickles in my chest. “No.”
“Didn’t think so. You and Nathan don’t have that fire between you.”
I straighten in my chair. “That’s a good thing.”
“It can be.” She sips her water. “But it can also mean you’re not meant for one another. Only you can figure that out.”
I feel a heaviness in my chest. “Kate had that fire in her marriage.”
“She did. Unfortunately, as you know, she got burnt really badly.”
Exactly what I don’t want to happen to me.
“I’m guessing the man in question is the new guy who started at your work. Aaron?”
“Yes.”
I pick up my water glass, but don’t drink. “I mean, we haven’t done anything.”
“I should hope not,” she says sharply. “You weren’t raised to be a cheater.”
I draw in an uneven breath. “But it still feels wrong the way I feel around him.”
