Page 47

“Arty.”

A second voice cuts in before I can escalate further.

“Sunshine!”

Grandpa Benny.

Eighty-two and retired menace to society.

“Hello, Bernard.”

“You look annoyed.”

“I am annoyed.”

“Good,” he says proudly. “That means you have healthy circulation.”

I roll my eyes at that.

Of course he thinks my irritation is a wellness indicator.

“My hip hurts, you know.”

Sureee. His hip.

“You were salsa dancing last night with Carmen.”

“Carrie,” he corrects. “And I did more than that.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

Oh, gross.

How he still has the stamina for sex at his age continues to amaze me.

Stevie loses it in the background.

“Come on. Stevie cannot leave me in my hurt stage,” he adds solemnly.

“You have five grandchildren. Call them. I need that one.”

“I don’t like the others.”

I exhale slowly.

This is a hostage situation with emotional leverage.

And I am losing.

“Come on, Sunshine. I need my Strawberry Pie to get better quicker.”

Strawberry pie. He meant his Stevie. Dammit.

“Fine,” I tell him flatly.

Stevie lights up immediately. Suspiciously fast.

“I’ll meet you there, okay?” she chirps.

“You better.”