Morgan gave her cousin an appreciative look as Greyson said, “I can do that.”
“Hey, Grandma,” Andrew said later that night, surprised to see his grandmother at his front door. Usually, it was him showing up at her place, not the other way around. “What’s up and what’s in the box?”
“The box is what’s up. I need a taste-tester for this recipe for Rosie’s wedding rehearsal dinner. The girls and I are hostessing the rehearsal for her and Lou. You available?”
“To try something you’ve cooked? Absolutely.” Smiling at her referring to the Butterflies as ‘the girls,’ he stepped aside to let her into the house. “Having you show up with food is sort of like Santa Claus showing up with presents when it’s not even Christmas.”
Grandma Ruby laughed. “I knew coming to see you was the right choice.”
“Everything okay?”
Placing the box on his kitchen counter, she nodded. “Everything’s fine. I’m just worried about Rosie. Her wedding is getting so close and she keeps changing her mind about every little detail.”
“Don’t tell me she doesn’t want the reindeer now?” Andrew asked, eyeing the containers his grandmother was unpacking. Amazing smells were already filling his small kitchen and his mouth watered in anticipation.
“Oh, no, that’s not it. At least, not yet. But she completely changed her rehearsal dinner menu and the catering company had a fit, so she let them go.”
“Two weeks before the wedding?”
“Exactly. Lou offered to have the diner cater it, but she wasn’t having that, either.” His grandmother sighed. “So, now we Butterflies are trying to save the day. Although, it would serve her right if there wasn’t any food to be served.”
Poor Lou. And, Rosie, too, for that matter. With as emotionally wrenched as Greyson’s ornament had left Andrew, he totally got Rosie’s hesitation. The fears that had Rosie stalling were the same fears that had Morgan refusing to date at all. Which was just as well where he was concerned, because he wasn’t the right guy for her.
“Well,” he told his grandmother, opening a drawer and pulling out some silverware, “you’ve come to the right place to have someone sample your goodies. Let the taste-testing begin.”
His grandma started opening small plastic containers that were stuffed with various homemade entrees.
“This one is my favorite,” Andrew said a few minutes later, taking another bite of the succulent lemon chicken as they sat at his kitchen bar. “Man, that’s good, Grandma. You outdid yourself.”
She beamed at him as if he’d done her a grand favor in stuffing his face. “Great. It’s settled then.”
Taking another bite, then slowly pulling the fork from his mouth so as not to miss a single morsel, he eyed his grandmother. “Not that I’m complaining, but I do have to wonder why you’re here rather than having Rosie and Lou do the taste-testing for their wedding.”
She waved off his concerns. “Rosie has enough to figure out without me piling on. Besides, after sixty years of friendship, I know her food likes and dislikes and Lou said he didn’t care so long as Rosie was happy.”
It was hard to fathom friendships that had lasted so long. Then again, he imagined that no matter what, he, Ben and Cole would always be close. In fifty years, they’d be the new Butterflies. Only they’d call themselves something hypermasculine like Flaming Hornets or the Fiery Spiders.
“Now,” his grandmother shifted on her barstool, eyeing him in a way that had him thinking there was a price to be paid for the treat he’d just consumed. “Tell me about you and Morgan. I noticed you barely talked to her at the fire hall this afternoon and you didn’t stick around long, which was surprising.”
Bingo. He’d suspected all along that her being there had something to do with Morgan.
“Nothing to tell.”
“Nothing to tell, or nothing you’re willing to tell?” she asked, giving him that grandma look that had him resisting the urge to squirm on his barstool. He hated when she gave him that look. Usually because it meant she already knew the answers and was going to keep him on the hot spot until he fessed up.
“Greyson’s ornament was just the sweetest. I think he should have gotten first place,” she continued, not waiting for his response before launching her next attack. “That was the three of you on his ornament, wasn’t it?”
Taking another bite, a big one so his mouth would be full, eliminating the possibility of a verbal answer, Andrew nodded.
“Greyson obviously adores you,” she pointed out.
The food he’d just swallowed formed a lump in Andrew’s throat. Greyson’s sweet words as he’d hugged him played through Andrew’s head. Greyson loved him. Pain stabbed him and Andrew beat his fist against his chest, trying to help the food that had obviously gotten stuck to move on down.
“I’ve noticed you’ve not been to church the past few Sundays.”
“I only went the once because Greyson invited me,” he reminded her. He shouldn’t have gone then. To have done so had set the poor kid up to think there was something more between him and his mom. Something that could never be.
Greyson loved him.
