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He would have said more, but the ladies at the park looked like Iron Man athletes, women who were attending Kelcie’s squat party for some serious muscle pain. He didn’t think his humor would play well against that backdrop.
In about an hour, Vivi was going to be in a world of hurt.
Dotty gleefully scrambled out and joined the rest, busting a move that really had no definition but said a lot about herjoie de vivre.
“I keep telling myself it’s my turn.” Vivi got out more slowly and only when Coop had opened her door.
“You’re turn for what?”
“Watching my grandmother.” She rolled her shoulders back, and put her game face on, looking like a referee about to officiate a contentious Superbowl. “We grandchildren all take turns. I thought it’d be easy. I thought I’d be sitting by the pool working on my book all day while she watched talk shows.”
“Dotty isn’t the talk show type.” Even Coop knew that.
“She’s not. She’s the bucket list type.” Vivi walked off, carrying her water bottle and purse and a resigned expression.
“Have fun at boot camp.” Despite her low spirits, Coop couldn’t resist the tease.
Vivi turned and gave him a look over the top of her sunglasses that said he’d pay for that later.
Coop smiled.
I look forward to it.
*
Violet was paying for all that exercise.
She had the zombie walk mastered—stiff legs, stiff arms, head tilted at an odd angle because of her stiff neck. And she had the zombie way of talking mastered, too—grunting and groaning as she went up-and-down the stairs and in-and-out of chairs.
Tuesday afternoon, Vi took a hot bath, a couple over-the-counter pain pills, and a long nap. Boot camp had done her in. But not Grandma Dotty. She had another hip hop lesson with Kelcie and was already downstairs practicing her moves.
A phone call woke Vi up around four.
“Grandma Dotty says you’re dying.” Maggie laughed over the sound of road noise. As a large animal vet, she spent most of the day driving to visit patients. “I told her it would take more than a couple exercise classes to do you in.”
“You’re wrong.” Violet sat up with a grimace. “I’m done in. I don’t understand how Grandma Dotty does it.”
“Don’t you remember? She spent time with Cousin Chad a few weeks ago. He’s trying to get healthier. And she jumped in to his regimen—walking breaks throughout the day and healthier eating.”
“Ah, yes.” Violet remembered now. “But still, I shouldn’t be out for the count. I exercise. I walk.” Once a day. Sometimes. “And I’m more than half her age.”
“You walk at a leisurely pace, and you don’t count your steps, Vi.Use your turn signal, you idiot!” Maggie honked her horn—beep, beep, beep!“I hate Hamptons traffic in the summer.”
“It’s why I don’t regret being here without a car.” Violet took a deep breath and then staggered to her feet. “I smell cooking. Grandma Dotty’s probably burning the house down.” Her grandmother got distracted when she was in the kitchen, and things tended to catch fire. “I need to go.” She promised to call Maggie if she needed anything and made her way slowly down the stairs to the kitchen where she heard voices and smelled delicious aromas.
“I’m going to lower the heat, Dotty.” A man in chef whites with sleeves rolled up stood next to her grandmother at the stove. He was blond, with a strong profile and toned forearms. There was an undertone of strained patience in his voice. “Remember what I told you about eggs. They like to be treated gently. Best go slow, the way a woman likes to be treated.”
“I’ve always preferred a man to go fast.” Grandma Dotty scoffed and shook a wok pan over a gas burner. “You should change your metaphors, Simon. Not all women like to take it slow, and I will not judge those who don’t.”
“Hey. What’s going on?” Violet tried to straighten her body and smooth her slow gait because Chef Simon was hot.
Not as hot as my cowboy chauffeur, but still…
Vi shook her head a little, refusing to think of Chuck when Simon smiled a greeting as she sat on a bar stool.
“Carmen in boot camp told me about cooking lessons with Chef Simon.” Grandma Dotty left the stove and leaned on the island across from Violet.
Which was apparently not good, because her instructor leaped into her place at the stove and continued to shake the wok pan and stir its contents.
