“A pinup?” I question, just to make sure I didn’t mishear him. “As in, a woman?”
“Exactly,” Pop nods.
Again, I look to Gran, who’s grinning even wider now. “You’re okay with this?”
Not that I think anyone has a say over anybody else’s body, per se, but the two of them have been married for over fifty years – they’re bound to have some strong opinions about these things.
“Who do you think I’m getting tattooed on me, boy?” My grandfather scoffs, like it should have been obvious. “I’ve got an old photo of your Gran to use as inspiration. Though she still looks like a pinup girl at seventy-three,” Pops says, winking at Gran. She rolls her eyes, but she looks pleased. Maybe even a little bit flustered. She straightens the throw pillow next to her on the couch and brushes something imaginary off her pant leg.
“You’re going to get a half-naked Mom tattooed on your leg?” Sasha asks, incredulous. Then she starts laughing, and we all join in.
“I tried talking him out of it,” Gran says, though she’s still smiling. “I’ve given up.”
Pops finally lets his pant leg go and settles back into the couch cushions. “What do you say, Deck? You up for it?”
“Tattooing my half-naked grandmother onto my grandfather’s leg?” I chuckle, wondering how the fuck we got here, but knowing I can’t say no. “Sure, Pops. I’ll double check that schedule tomorrow and let you know.”
The conversation bounces between all of the topics I expected: the new shop, how work is going, my apartment, how I’m liking the town. I try to turn the conversation back around to my grandparents, asking about what they’ve been up to in Virginia and the friends of theirs that I met when I visited, but they always turn it back to me.
It’s nearing 9 p.m. – far past my grandparents’ usual bedtime – when we reach my grandmother’s favorite topic.
“So, Declan, honey,” Gran begins, leaning forward conspiratorially. “Been seeing any nice girls lately?”
I usually don’t have anything to tell Gran, because I know when she saysseeing, she meansdating– which is not what I’m typically doing with the women I spend my time with.
It’s too early to be blabbing to my family about her, but even so, I find myself saying, “I actually have a date tomorrow.”
The look of shock on all three of their faces almost makes me laugh. I haven’t brought a girl home since I was a teenager living with my grandparents, and as far as I can remember, I haven’t talked about any since then, either. Certainly not to my mother, though she’s tried to broach the subject a handful of times over the years.
“Oh, I’m so happy to hear that,” Gran says excitedly. “Tell us about her.”
I’m surprised to find that I actuallywantto talk about Elsie with my family. It’s different with Sean, who knows her and probably has his own opinions about her. The opportunity to talk about her to people who haven’t been lucky enough to meet her yet is too tempting to pass up.
“Her name is Elsie,” I begin. “She owns the flower shop that’s in the same building as our studio.”
“A business owner,” Pops says, the admiration clear in his voice. “That’s great.”
“Have you gone out before?” Sasha asks, taking full advantage of the opportunity to get some real information out of me. She’d never push the subject this much on her own.
“Not yet. Tomorrow is our first date.”
“Oh, to be young and going out on a first date,” Gran says wistfully. “Those are just the best times.”
“What’s she like?” Pops asks.
Any other time, my hackles would be raised with the three of them interrogating me like this. I’d evade their questions, probably give some smartass responses. With Elsie as the topic of conversation, though, I find that I don’t mind the third degree.
“She’s sweet,” I tell them, though it feels like an understatement. “Everybody in town loves her, and she’s always giving people flowers.” I grin, remembering one of my favorite Elsie moments that I got to witness through that damn window. “I once saw her run after a teen who’d gotten into a fight with their girlfriend on the sidewalk right outside our shops. It was impossible to ignore; we could hear the whole thing. When their girlfriend stormed off, leaving them crying, Elsie went after them with a full bouquet, probably one of the most expensive ones she had in the shop.”
“She sounds lovely,” Sasha says.
“Will we get to meet her this week?” Gran asks.
How do I kindly tell her the answer is a resoundingabsolutely not?
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” I say instead. “We haven’t even gone on a date yet. If things go well, I think it’ll be a while before we hit the ‘meet the family’ stage.”
“You kids,” Pops says, shaking his head. “In our day, it was expected to go over and meet the family, introduce yourself and make a good impression before you could even ask your lady out on a date.”
