“About trusting God even in the dark.” I looked into his rich brown eyes as I spoke.
A strange emotion that I couldn’t place seemed to make his smile diminish, but it was gone quickly. “Harder to do than we think sometimes.”
Something was happening, but I didn’t know what, so I answered carefully, “Yes, it is. I felt like God was telling me something, but I’m still working through what it means.”
He blinked, and the moment was over. “Are you ready? Grammy has texted me a dozen times since I dropped her off after lunch to make sure you were still coming.”
Laughing easily, I walked toward the door. “Ready when you are. I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“Me, too,” he murmured before following me out.
Mike was tellingme some funny and sweet things about his grandmother and was still talking about her love of music when we walked into the facility.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Mike growled as we walked into the pristine building. He had explained about the facility where Grammy lived, which was more than interesting to me. Italian families tended to live together for years, usually with multiple generations in one home. But with Mike’s career, I could see how grateful he was to have a place close enough to meet her needs.
My eyes widened when I saw what looked like a dozen or more people gathered at the receptionist desk, all watching us with grins and enthusiastic waves as if we were getting off a transatlantic cruise.
“What is happening? Who are these people?” I whispered.
“The mafia that runs this place, otherwise known as the ‘Granny Squad.’” His gaze caught on something above the reception desk, and he did a double-take. “For the love. Is that a sign?” he asked incredulously to the group of white-haired women who walked up to him while gawking at me.
Sure enough, there was a homemade sign with crooked writing that said, “Welcome Home Wren.” It looked like another name had been under what I assumed was mine.
“Geez, this isn’t her home, and you didn’t even spell her name right,” Mike said, rubbing his head roughly as he looked around the group. He mouthed “I’m sorry” to me, but I was too stunned to answer.
“We wanted her to feel welcome, and we didn’t know what else to say, so we used the banner we put up when Henry came back last month,” one of them grumbled and pushed him out of the way, which was impressive since she was only about four feet tall. “And whadda ya mean we didn’t spell it right?”
“Told you that wasn’t the right way, you old goat. But, no, don’t listen to the retired English teacher,” another one grumbled.
“That’s ‘cause she didn’t turn up her hearing aid again. Woman’s deaf unless it’s cranked to the hilt,” another woman in a bedazzled jogging suit said. I felt like I was in the middle of The Golden Girls. I never watched the show, but Betty White was a legend.
“Hi, I’m Gemma. We’re so excited to meet you. You must be her, right? The one who finally made a man out of this guy?” the bedazzled one said, grinning and looking me up and down curiously.
I couldn’t stop the laugh that barreled out of me. “Well, hello, Gemma. Yes, I’m Renata, Ren for short. It’s so nice to meet you.” She hugged me, the scent of menthol and rose flooding my nose. I had to say, I was impressed with her choice of a bold red lip color.
Go, Gemma. Rock that red.
“You’re so beautiful,” another woman said, as she touched my curls. “I didn’t know you’d be so beautiful. I mean, Mikey has never brought a woman to meet us before, so we had no idea what to expect. Not that beauty is everything, but let me tell you. It sure helps. I’m Edna. This is for you.”
When I snuck a peek at him, he was rolling his eyes. I was going to have a good time teasing him about that nickname.
“Oh, how, um, thoughtful,” I said, holding the piece of red and green crochet she’d excitedly handed me. My confusion must’ve been evident when I looked at Mike because he mouthed “potholder.”
“Oh, I needed more potholders. This is perfect, Edna. Thank you again. And just for the record, I think you’re beautiful too.” Her cheeks grew pink on her sweet, wrinkly face.
“Move now, Edna, you’re hogging her. Hi, Renata. I’m Doris, Mikey’s favorite.” Her words made the other two snort. “Welcome to the insane asylum.” Her cherry-red cheeks were adorable, as was the neon-blue eyeshadow.
These girls knew how to stand out. I could see why everyone said they ruled this place. I was already in love with them.
Her smirk gave me pause, and when she smiled, her dentures moved, making me pinch my lips together. “Thank you, Doris. Nice to meet you as well. I’m glad that Mikey has so many beautiful women in his life.”
She seemed pleased with that, her head bobbing and her smile growing as she walked away, her pantyhose suddenly sagging into her thick, orthotic shoes. I didn’t think I should point it out.
“Okay, that’s enough, you bunch of loons. What did you do with Grammy? Tie her up so you could be the first out here?” Mike said with affection that he couldn’t hide. He loved these women.
Just then, the slow clip-clop of shoes approached us. I knew it was her from the smile on his face. He looked as if he’d just seen a stunning sunrise.
“Where have you been? You left us out here to be devoured by these wolves,” he teased, walking quickly to meet her. He grabbed her elbow, and she tried to act like she was fine, but I could see that walking was painful for her.
