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“How was work?”
Not wanting to go into too much detail, I answer, “It was fine.”
Something starts happening on the TV that draws away his attention, so I make my way into the kitchen.
Grandma is sitting at the table reading a magazine. “Hey, darlin’. Good day?” She asks.
“Wasn’t bad.”
“You’re a little later than usual. Everything okay?”
“Yeah, Jonas just had a family emergency, so I stayed and helped Taylor finish up.”
Everyone in this town knows everyone else, so I don’t have to explain who anybody is.
“Oh no, I hope everything is alright.” My grandma is one of the sweetest women on the planet.
“I’m sure it will be,” I say before excusing myself to go take a shower. I’m sure I smell like a load of cow ass.
I take my time letting the hot water wash over me. Sometimes, I get off work and work out, but I’m beyond beat tonight.
When I get out, I throw on some shorts and a t-shirt before heading back into the kitchen. Walking to the fridge, I grab a bottle of water and chug half of it down.
Grandma looks up from her magazine. “There’s some fried tomatoes on the stove if you’re hungry.”
I take her up on the offer, grabbing a few of them and scarfing them down.
“Do you want me to make you something else? Your grandpa and I just ate leftovers, but I can fix you something,” she offers.
“I’m good, Grandma, but thanks.” I lean down and kiss her on the cheek. “I think I’m just going to head to bed.”
“Alright, dear. Goodnight.”
I walk to my bedroom after a quick goodnight to Grandpa and sprawl out on my bed. I’m still a little hungry, but I’m too tired to fix anything. And I’m not asking Grandma. After all this time, she still thinks she needs to take care of me. But she doesn’t. After all they’ve done for me, it’s my turn to take care of them. When my parents died in a car crash, they raised me—no questions asked. They gave up a lot for me, and I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to repay them.
I turn on some music at a quiet volume, pull out my phone, and click it on. I check the dating app that I use and see one of the girls I’ve been talking to hasn’t messaged in a few days. I’m pretty sure she bounced when she wanted to come over, but I dropped the bomb that I live with my grandparents.
I’m sure it sounds lame when they first hear it. And I don’t explain that the house is actually mine now. I bought it from them about a year ago, and I pay the mortgage and most of the other bills.
I don’t offer that information upfront, though. Family is essential to me, and any woman who runs away because I’m living with my grandparents isn’t the woman for me. I don’t put forth any more effort after that.
I close out of the dating app and open up Facebook. Being nosey, I typeJenna Mitchellinto the search bar. Ever since Jessie and Jonas brought her up earlier, I’ve had the youngest of the Mitchell clan on my brain.
She’s the top search result, so I click on her profile. When it comes up, it doesn’t look like she’s on social media very much.
We have that in common.
But I see a lot of people have her tagged in photos. She’s even prettier than I remember.
Just like her brothers, Jenna has always been tall. I’m guessing she’s almost six feet.
She’s never been conventionally skinny, but she’s very athletic. She’s thick in all the right places, and I’m guessing most of it is muscle.
Her blonde hair hangs halfway down her back in unruly wavy curls.
In most of the photos, she’s either in her volleyball uniform or a pair of shorts and t-shirts. And her hair is usually piled in a messy bun on top of her head.
One thing is consistent: her smile lights up every photo. She looks so happy—so bright and bubbly.
