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She met her eyes and said, “Whoever’s side is going to make me the most money. Do you know how expensive seeds are? I don’t know how I’ve been roped into growing cucumbers and squash this year, but here I am.”
“Your grandpa wants it?” I asked.
“Mm. One of the residents at the senior nuthouse died yesterday and he thinks they’re poisoning them with their vegetables. I think he’s been watching too much TV. Or he’s been in the comment section of the Daily Mail again.” She glanced at me. “Or he’s been listening to your grandmother.”
Well, that was the most likely scenario.
She was insane.
“Don’t. She called me this morning asking if I knew where she could buy some socks for the ducks.” I shook my head.
“Socks? For ducks?” Holley’s eyes widened.
“Yes. Apparently, your grandma promised to knit some, but knitted penis warmers instead.”
Holley paused. “Ohhh. That’s what that was in the photo she texted me.”
“She sent you a photo?” Kinsley fought a laugh. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, but it was blurry, and you couldn’t see anything. I’m now glad about that.”
“No kidding. Anyway, I have no idea where she could get them, but she also mentioned something about vegetables. I think they’re trying to get them to eat healthier because she also asked if I could smuggle in a freezer.” I tapped my finger against my lips. “Maybe I need to talk to her doctor. She’s loopier than usual.”
“No, I think that’s a movement they’re starting.” Kinsley rolled her eyes. “I’m heading over there later. Do you want to come with me?”
“Ha! Not a chance. Dylan’s teaching them a fitness class today. I’m not going anywhere near that place.”
Holley shuddered. “I walked in on one a couple of weeks ago. No offense, Kins, but seeing your grandpa in Lycra shorts has scarred me for life.”
I wanted to shudder at the thought of it. Of course, I’d already had my fair share of nightmares from seeing them do various workouts. I wasn’t about to give myself another one.
“When is the class?” Kins asked me. “I have to admit, it’s not something I’m interested in seeing either.”
“Let me text him and find out.” I pulled my phone out and tapped a quick message off to him.
His reply was immediate. He must have been holding his phone.
DYLAN: We just got done. It’s not a long class. You’re safe to visit.
Well, thank God for that.
I relayed the information to the girls. “If you’re going, I might as well join you before Grandma calls my mom and tells her I’m neglecting her again.”
“The last time she thought you were neglecting her it was because you hadn’t answered her calls,” Holley pointed out.
“I’d seen her that very morning!” I argued. “She’s a lunatic.”
“Yeah, but she’s sweet,” Kinsley said slowly. “Crazy, but sweet.”
“They need to put that on the sign above the door.” I shoved my phone in the pocket of my sweater and met her eyes. “Do you want to run by the grocery store first? Grandma will lose her mind if I don’t come with cheese puffs.”
She laughed. “Yeah, I could pick Grandpa up a few things. Do you think they sell Xanax?”
“Um, hello.” Holley waved her arms and almost knocked her glasses off her face. “Does anyone care if I want to come and see my grandmother?”
I blinked at her. “Do you want to come and see your grandmother?”
“I don’t appreciate you putting me on the spot like that.” She sniffed and removed her glasses, only to use the hem of her shirt to clean the lenses.
“You brought it up.”
“We know she doesn’t want to see her Grandma. All Rosie does is ask her when she’s going to ask Seb to marry her.”
I shuddered. Involuntarily.
“What’s wrong with you?” Holley asked me. “Also, you’re correct.” She pointed at Kinsley.
“Nothing. Just… Our waitress was called Rosie the other night, and I didn’t like her.” I shrugged and turned to go and get my coat.
“Ah, when you were jealous.”
“I was not jealous!” I turned on her and jabbed my finger in the air.
Kinsley shoved my coat at me—where did she get that?—and pushed me toward the door. “That’s our cue. Byeeee.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN – SAYLOR
RULE ELEVEN: THE ONLY PERSON YOU CAN TRULY TRUST IS YOURSELF. AND YOUR VIBRATOR. AS LONG AS YOU HAVE SPARE BATTERIES.
I was going to kill Dylan Parker.
I could envision it now. I could string him up to a tree by his balls and let him die a long, painful death by testicular asphyxiation. Or I could smother him in his sleep. Put a deadly nightshade in his dinner.
Or just straight up strangle his fucking lying ass with my bare hands for the torture we were being subjected to.
“I’m wearing jeans! This isn’t right!” Kinsley panted, doing star jumps. “I didn’t pack deodorant!”
“I don’t work out!” I called, echoing her protests.
