I let out a slow breath. “Is it sad that I have no feelings about this, other than concern for you?” After all, I’d never met the man. I’d only seen him in pictures. He didn’t show up for birthdays, graduations. Not even for my wedding. And he was invited.
“Don’t be. I’m good.”
I smirked. “I can tell.”
She beamed. “He’s such a good man.”
Tucking one leg under my butt, I turned to her. “Tell me about him. You met at Flower Day?”
“We both wanted the same plant,” she explained.
Every year, on the Sunday after Mother’s Day, Grandma ventured downtown to Eastern Market for Flower Day. It had been her tradition even before she’d moved to Detroit. Each time she went, she would return with a variety of flowers from the hundreds of vendors who attended. Then, she’d spend hours planting in her garden, listening to music and drinking wine. The fact that she’d met someone there seemed like destiny.
Grandma chuckled. “I tried to talk my way into getting it, but since he’d arrived first, the gardener gave it to him. Imagine my surprise when he gave it to me.” She leaned in and added, “and it wasn’t cheap either.”
Smiling, I asked, “Is that when he asked you out?”
“Actually, I invited him to lunch.”
My mouth fell open. This was the same woman who’d made me promise never to make the first move. “You did?”
“There was something about his eyes,” she mused, staring off into space. “So kind. Genuine. I couldn’t help myself. We sat at that restaurant so long that my hip was on fire.” She sighed. “When he insisted that I go home and rest, I didn’t want to leave. That’s when I knew he was the real deal.”
“I love that,” I whispered.
“He took me home that day.”
“On the first day?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know why, but I knew that I didn’t have to worry about anything with him.”
“You felt safe.” It wasn’t a question because I already knew the answer. I’d only ever felt that way with a man once. Not since I was a teenager.
Eyeing me, she nodded. “I did. He took care of me that day. Stuck around to ensure I was actually resting. Then, made me call my doctor. When I had surgery, he was there. He stayed with me, made sure I ate, took me on slow walks around the property. Ace listens to me. He prioritizes me. When I’m in one of my moods, he knows to steer clear without holding it against me. He calls me on my bullshit. If I’m wrong, he holds me accountable.”
Smiling at her, I said, “I’ve never seen you like this.”
“Me neither,” she admitted with a shrug. “I’ve never felt like this.”
“I love this look on you.” I squeezed her hand. “You deserve all the happiness you can stand.”
“I want the same for you.” Grandma cupped my cheek. “I don’t love that look inyoureyes.”
Averting my gaze, I sucked in a deep breath. “Let’s not talk about me.”
“You know I can’t listen to that, Pooh. I always have something to say.”
That part was true. Grandma had never let the sun go down without speaking her mind. Even if her words hurt. Most of my friends’ grandmothers spent their time cooking big meals, baking cakes and pies, giving good hugs, attending water aerobics, going on day trips to the casinos, and cruising to exotic destinations. Not mine. Grandma hated to cook for large groups, which is why she employed a personal chef for holiday get-togethers. The last time she baked a cake was on my sixteenth birthday. A pound cake. It was delicious, but when I asked for another one, she flat out told me “hell no.” She rarely hugged anyone. If she did, it was usually because the person really needed it. While she knew how to swim, she considered water aerobics to be the next step before death, so she tried to avoid it. Cigarette smoke kept her from the casinos and she preferred all-inclusive resorts to overcrowded ships.
“I’m just waiting on you to talk to me,” she said.
I peered up at the ceiling as tears filled my eyes. “I can’t.”
She tipped my chin, bringing my gaze back to hers. “What did he do to you?” she prodded. “If he put his hands on you, I’ll set his ass on fire.”
I gasped, then burst out in a fit of giggles even through the tears that escaped my eyes. “Grandma! You can’t threaten people. Even Darrell.”
“I’m serious.”
