Page 93 of Vega

“Hey baby.” Then she smiled harder. “Y’all are right on time. I’m cooking. You hungry?”

Knox laughed behind me. “She’s always trying to feed somebody.”

“Because y’all don’t have women at home to cook you a home cooked meal. Keep bouncing around with these floozies, instead of getting you a wife,” she fussed.

“Damn, granny, I just got here,” I laughed.

Her eyes narrowed as she swatted my shoulder with her towel. “Watch your mouth.” Then she stepped aside, “Come in. Y’all letting my good air out.”

“You remember that I bought you this air, right?” I reminded her as I walked inside.

Back when my grandfather finally got successful, he bought this house cash for my grandmother, but it didn’t have any central air. They claimed they didn’t need air conditioning because it was bad for their bones. I had finally convinced them to let me gift them an A/C unit a few years ago because I was tired of coming over in the summer and melting.

The house smelled like cabbage, baked chicken, and medicine. Now, that last part always hit me first because it reminded me of my grandfather’s demise. My grandfather used to have the house smelling like cigars and expensive cologne. Then COVID came, and he started to change. At first, it was little things like lost keys, repeated stories, calling me twice in the same hour to ask the same question. We blamed stress, age, the world being shut down. But it got worse, and he was eventually diagnosed with dementia.

Last year, pancreatic cancer joined the fight like dementia wasn’t already cruel enough.

My father’s parents were killed in a car crash when they were visiting the States right before my father disappeared. My mother and maternal grandparents were all I had left, so watching Grandpa Teddy’s demise was tough to say the least.

Grandpa Teddy sat in his recliner by the window, thinner than he had ever been with a blanket over his lap and the TV on a game. I gave my grandmother a kiss before she disappeared down the hall and back into the kitchen.

My grandfather’s eyes brightened when he saw me. “My boy.”

I crossed the room and took his hand. “What’s up, Grandpa?”

Then he grinned at Knox.

“What’s up, Pops,” Knox greeted him.

“You got it,” my grandpa nodded. “Yall got practice today?”

I glanced at Knox, then back at him. “Yeah, later.”

Then Grandpa asked, “Coach Evans insists on winning the championship this year.”

My throat tightened. Coach Evans hadn’t coached me since freshman year of high school, but we had learned not to correct Grandpa when his mind dropped him in another year. It only embarrassed him, then frustrated him, then left him looking lost in his own house. Granny said there was no reason to drag him back to a present that hurt more than the past he was in. So, we went along with it.

“Yeah,” I said. “He still be trying to kill us with those suicides.”

Grandpa chuckled. “That’s good. Builds character. You keeping them grades up too?”

“I’m trying.”

“Trying ain’t enough. Your mama said you got a math test Friday, and she was fussing because you haven’t studied.”

“I’m gonna study tonight.”

“You better.” He pointed a weak finger at me. “Can’t be pretty and dumb. World already full of that.”

Knox coughed into his fist, hiding a laugh.

I smiled even though my chest hurt. “Yes, sir.”

Grandpa looked down toward my shoes. “You still wearing them cheap gym shoes?”

I glanced at the designer sneakers on my feet. “For now.”

“I told your mama I was gon’ get you some Jordans when my check came.”