“Do you want a table?” he asks. “I’ll gladly kick someone out for you.”
I throw him a look just as Grandma says “please.”
“Actually, I was going to introduce Grandma around.”
Morgan’s eyes dart to the back booth and he nods. “I’ll bring your drinks over.”
I take Grandma’s arm and guide her away from the bar. We arrive at the table where Mrs. Gardiner, Miss Mullins, and Miss Bright are seated. On my best behavior, I make introductions and ask if we can join them.
Politely, they make room for us. Grandma grumbles as she gets into the booth and loudly says, “So this is where you put the old folks.”
“Well,” Mrs. Gardiner says, affronted.
“I’m seventy-one,” Miss Mullins says cheerfully.
“Eighty-three. Ha,” Grandma says, like it’s a contest. “Where are all the men?”
“Married or dead,” Mrs. Gardiner says levelly.
“Small towns have shit dating prospects,” Grandma declares.
“You have to keep an open mind,” Miss Mullins says.
Miss Bright nods thoughtfully.
“That’s why I didn’t want to move out here. Small towns are high on drama, low on dating prospects. High on backwoods, narrow-minded rednecks?—”
“Now wait just a minute there,” Mrs. Gardiner interrupts.
“—low on culture. Hell, I can’t even get a good chardonnay in here.”
Oh Jesus, this is going off the rails.
Morgan brings us our drinks and my grandmother continues to insult small towns and their residents. His eyes widen and he glances at me.
“Okay, okay, okay,” I say over my grandma and Mrs. Gardiner bickering. I have to stand and wave my hands in front of their faces.
Morgan backs away slowly.
Once the women are quiet, I flop back into my seat. “How about this: Morgan and I plan to elope at the courthouse. Discuss.”
Four sets of eyes stare at me.
“The courthouse?” Mrs. Gardiner asks, appalled.
“Can you believe it?” my grandmother adds.
“But . . .” Miss Mullins stares at me. “Where will all the Herevians sit?”
“We wouldn’t invite anyone.”
There’s a collective gasp from the three women.
“But I’ve known Morgan since he was in diapers,” Miss Mullins says.
“Is it money?” Mrs. Gardiner leans in.
“No,” Grandma bites out. “I cut them a nice check and they insist that they can do whatever they want with it.”
