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Chapter Twelve
Stuart
“Ye’re tardy, son.”
My grandmother pinned me to her doormat with her steely gaze, arms folded, holding a wooden spoon.
She was right: I was late for the weekly family lunch. I glanced at my watch: precisely twenty-three minutes late.
I had been running on time when I kissed Amanda good-bye, but she had been wearing nothing but a pair of heels. When our sweet kiss swiftly turned dirty, I chose to endure the wrath of my grandmother in exchange for being late and banging Amanda against the wall by her front door.
“Sorry Gran.” I grinned, flashing my dimples to win her over.
“What’s this now?” Gran narrowed her eyes. “Ye smiling?
“Aye. I’m smiling.” And I wasn’t the slightest bit sorry.
“Ye haven’t been this pleased tae see ye Granny in years!”
I shrugged, trying to act casual. Amanda and I had spent the weekend mostly naked, with me throwing on clothes to briefly run out for food and more condoms. I couldn’t stifle the smile that tugged at my lips if I tried.
“I’m…just happy.”
“The dimple worked when ye were six years old, but I’m no fallin’ for it today!” She pointed the wooden spoon at me, like a sword. Gran had wielded great power with that utensil over the decades and continued to do so.
“Ye were in hospital for your bottom!”
“Aye, I was. Now I’m not.”
“Wait, now,” Gran looked me over. “It’s a lassie, isn’t it?”
I tried to smother my grin but only smiled broader. “Maybe.”
Gran’s eyes widened and she lowered the spoon, looking to the left of me and then the right. “Well now, where is the lass?”
“At her flat. Working.”
“Working?” Gran screwed up her nose in disgust. “It’s the holy day of rest and your girlfriend is working? What’s her name then?”
My smile wavered. I couldn’t have her asking about Amanda by name in front of my brothers, who had no idea I’d just started sleeping secretly with our independent auditor. This was a secret that needed to be actually kept a secret in this small town and incredibly nosy family.
“Uncle Stu!” My niece, Jess, ran out from behind Gran, her mop of curls bouncing a riot, launching herself at me for a hug. I caught her, a twinge of pain coming from my tailbone, and lifted her above my head. “I’m hungry.”
“Ye see? Ye made the bairns wait!” Gran stomped into the house. “Come on! It’s time to get this roast on the table!”
I carried Jess inside to find my parents, James, Robert and his family already seated. A chorus of ‘hello’, ‘finally!’ and ‘about time!’ greeted me.
“Sit there,” Gran pointed at the chair beside my father. “On account of it havin’ a donut pillow for your bottom.”
“Thank ye Gran,” I grimaced, as I lowered Jess onto her chair beside Robert.
“Granny Maisie said bottom, daddy!” Jess trilled to Robert as she flung herself into his lap.
Gran stifled a grin at her great-granddaughter.
“Now, before ye get any food,” She took a deep breath, as she raised the wooden spoon and pointed it at me. “He’s got a lass. Why was I not told?”
All heads swivelled towards me. My brothers’ eyebrows collectively shot towards the ceiling. Mum clasped her hands together. Robert’s wife smiled kindly.
