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Or boarded up the windows—something I probably needed to consider doing.
“So. She spent the night.”
“I’m not sure I’m comfortable discussing this with you,” I said slowly. “You’re her grandmother. It’s not really appropriate.”
“Child, if you think I’m appropriate, you’re sorely mistaken.”
“Be that as it may, I’m not discussing any events of last night with you.”
She sighed. “Nobody tells me anything these days. What are your intentions with her? Are you going to knock her up and leave her, too?”
“Jennifer. I’ll take that wine back.”
“Fine.” She said it with all the attitude of an annoyed teenager. “What are your intentions with her?”
“My intentions are to keep it between me and Immy until we know ourselves,” I said firmly. “It’s complicated, and there are a lot of things to consider.”
“Like the fact you broke her heart and knocked up another woman.”
“You say it like those things happened in the space of a week, not two years.”
“For all I know, they did.”
“Maya’s nearly four. It didn’t happen in a week.”
“Math isn’t my strong point. Sue me. You’re the fancy lawyer.”
Why had I said ‘come in’ again? What a stupid decision that was.
“Is there a point to you being here, or are you just bored?” I asked, sitting in the armchair.
Jen swirled the wine in her glass. “I’m bored. And nosy. I’d have left already since you aren’t telling me anything, but you made the mistake of giving me wine.”
Yeah. That was the mistake I’d made.
“Do you mind if I go and get changed out of my suit?”
“I do, actually. You wear it well. Good to know she isn’t sleeping with one of those morons who think sweatpants are acceptable to wear to a meeting.”
“I’ll be back in a moment,” I said, getting straight back up from the chair and going upstairs.
Lord above, the woman was a fucking trip.
I changed into sweats and a t-shirt before going back downstairs. On the way, I stopped into the kitchen and poured some Jack Daniels into a small glass, because fuck only knew I was going to need something stronger than water to get through this conversation.
“You said you didn’t have whiskey,” Jen said accusingly when she saw my glass.
“No. You asked if you could have whiskey, and I said no.” I sipped.
“Fucking lawyers,” she muttered under her breath.
The sound of a car pulling up next door made her still.
“She’ll know you’re here,” I warned her.
“I know. I don’t really care.” Jen cackled. “I’m old and senile. I got the wrong house. You let me in to look after me. See? I’m really fighting your corner here, boy.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it?”
“You could make it sound less like a question.”
“If I could, I would. Believe me.” I got up at the sound of frantic knocking on my door. “She’s gonna kill you.”
“Nah, she won’t. She won’t get my life insurance that way.”
I counted to ten inside my head. By the time I hit ten, I was at the front door.
“Have you seen that damn woman?” Immy asked, eyes blazing. “Is Grandma here?”
I nodded. “She’s on the sofa.”
Immy looked at the glass in my hand. “Are you drinking whiskey with her?”
“What do you take me for? A fool? No. She’s drinking a small glass of wine.”
“She’s drinking my wine? What did I tell you about sharing my wine?”
“It was your wine or my whiskey.”
She sighed. “Fine, you made the right choice. What’s she doing?”
“Swearing about lawyers outsmarting her, asking about last night, and threatening to stick her cane so far up Dolly’s ass, she’ll never shit again.”
“So a normal conversation, then.”
“Pretty much. Come in.”
Immy stepped in past me and pushed hair from her face, exposing a big pink patch underneath.
“Did you dye your hair?”
She touched her hair until she found it. “Ugh, no. I closed the store for inventory today and got attacked by a bottle of pink paint. And now instead of showering so I stop smelling like a canvas, here I am.”
“You can go shower. I’m sure she’ll still be here by the time you’re done.”
“No. I’m going to put her to bed, then I’ll take a shower.” She walked into the living room. “Let’s go, Grandma. Mason doesn’t want to listen to you tonight.”
“He’s been looking after me,” Jen said. “I got confused and came to the wrong house.”
“Yeah, same,” Immy drawled in response. “Try again.”
“He was helping me with a problem with my roses.”
“He knows nothing about roses.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because he once got them confused with dahlias,” she replied.
“They look similar,” I muttered.
She shot me a look—one that told me to be quiet, but one that was also full of laughter. “Grandma, let’s go.”
Jen huffed, then downed the wine.
I expected nothing less.
She pushed herself off the sofa and up to standing. “I was only finding out the status of your relationship.”
Immy’s cheeks blazed red, but I didn’t know if it was because she was getting angry or if it was because she was embarrassed. “When we know, we’ll be sure you’re the first to know.”
