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“Yep! Payton is gonna come help me win! Come on, Payton!” she exclaims as she jumps out of the booth and heads towards the game room.
“I’ll be right behind you,” she hollers before turning back to her grandmother. “Where’s Grandpa?” she asks, looking over the visitor’s shoulder.
“Oh, he stayed in the car. He figured out how to search for inspirational photographs on the Tumblr so he’s busy saving things to his phone thingy.”
“Inspirational photographs?” she asks, glancing my way with a look of question in her eyes.
“You know, porn. I don’t like to use the dirty words before I’ve had my dinner.” I almost spit out my mouthful of Coke.
“What? You use dirty words all the time!” The cutest blush creeps up her neck and spreads across her cheeks.
“That’s neither here nor there, Payters.”
Leaning forward, Payton whispers harshly, “And why is Grandpa looking at porn. That can’t be good for his heart.”
“Oh, fooey. His heart is just peachy. He’s looking up new scenes for us to reenact later tonight after we’ve had our pizza and Fish Oil.”
A loud smack echoes through the restaurant as Payton’s head lands on the tabletop. “Why must you be so embarrassing?” she groans into the wood.
“Sex is not embarrassing, dear. And if it is, you’re not doing it right. Maybe this young man can show you how it’s supposed to be done,” Grandma suggests, throwing me a wink.
I’m riveted in my seat, unable to look away even if I wanted. This tiny spitfire of a woman has me wanting to shy away and hide under the table one minute and laugh until my side hurts the next. I can’t imagine what it was like growing up with her, assuming she has always been this brash and forward. And if the gleam in her eyes is telling, I’d say she has been.
“Come on, Payton! You gotta play with me!” Bri hollers from the doorway to the game room.
“I need to go in there. You go home,” she says as she slides out of the booth, giving her grandma a very pointed look. “I don’t trust you not to corrupt Dean.”
The older woman tsks her disappointment. “I would do no such thing. Dean and I would be capable of having an adult conversation unsupervised.”
“It’s not Dean I’m worried about,” Payton mumbles.
“Go play with that darling little girl, Payters. I’m going to take this pizza home before it gets cold. Dean, it was nice meeting you,” she says seconds before I’m pulled into a big hug. The petite little thing is freakishly strong. Just as I go to pull back, I’m startled by a hand grabbing my ass firmly. “Oh, yes. It was very nice to meet you,” Grandma adds with a wink before walking away.
I stare, wide-eyed and shell-shocked as she walks away.
“Did she grab your ass?” Payton asks, a mixture of mortification and exasperation.
“Yeah.”
“Jeez. I’m so sorry. She has this thing with grabbing butts. She does it all the time to Ryan and has since the first time she met him. She rarely does it to Josh and never to Chris. I think it’s some weird initiation.”
“I don’t know who all of those guys are, but it’s okay. I can handle an eighty-year-old woman copping a feel on my rear,” I reply with a chuckle.
“Just wait until she cops a feel on the other side.” Payton’s eyebrow rises. I can tell she’s serious.
“Really?”
“Well, she’s never actually grabbed it that I know of, but for a while there she was very friendly with Ryan, Jaime’s boyfriend. She’d pull him in close and I swear you could see the moment he realized his junk was practically plastered to her stomach. Grandma just smiled and held on a little longer, though.” I can’t help but laugh. “My family’s weird, Dean. I mean like really, really weird. Are you sure you want to continue this thing?” she asks, motioning between us.
Stepping forward, I invade her personal space until I can feel the heat of her body and smell the floral scent clinging to her hair. “I’m sure. In fact, I wouldn’t mind continuing a little something else later.” Running my hand down her arm, I feel her shiver in response.
“Payton!” my daughter yells from the entrance, breaking the spell I find myself in every time Payton is near.
“Come on. Let’s go play some Pinball before they kick us out for yelling.”
We barely make it into the game room when Payton’s phone starts to go off. She ignores it at first, joining my daughter at the Pinball machine and manning the left side button to control the bumper. But after the fourth or fifth chime, I can tell she’s worried about something. She grabs her phone from her pocket and swipes the screen.
I try to focus on my daughter’s game, but I can’t help but watch Payton. Her fingers are moving rapidly and her sweet little mouth is wide open. When she glances up at me, fire dances in her eyes, and I can tell whatever is on her phone doesn’t make her happy.
“Everything okay?”
“No. I might kill my grandma.”
