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“Sometimes. Or sometimes you just want it.” She turns on the stove. “There’s no one recent worth remembering.”
I let out a dry laugh. “I’m sure they’re happy to hear that.”
“You kids think you invented sex,” she says. “How do you think you got here?”
“Mom’s court-ordered rehab.” That’s what landed me here the first time, anyway.
Grandma frowns. “I’m sorry about your mother.”
“Your daughter.”
“My responsibility.”
“She was an adult,” I remind her. So much for keeping the mood light. I blame jet lag. And the sudden loss of Lexi’s attention. I feel dull without it. Cold. Tired. Even Deanna’s presence was energizing, if I’m being honest.
There are too many difficult conversations waiting here. And, somehow, there’s also nothing to say. Mom went M.I.A. a long time ago. Case closed.
Grandma is accepting as much help as she deems fit. Case closed.
“I can’t help my struggle with finding men.” She shifts the conversation back to her favorite topic. “No one is as handsome as your grandfather was. You got it from him, you know.”
“I’ve seen pictures of the two of you. You were very—”
“Don’t even think about saying beautiful.”
Okay, then. “Enamoredwith each other.”
She laughs. “Because we were fucking all the time.”
“Well, there are apps for that now. If you’re curious.”
She presses her lips together, narrows her eyes, then says, “Sweetheart, I know you think I’m tech challenged because I’m older, but I know this world better than you do.”
“I don’t think that.” I’m sure Grandma has far more casual sex than I do. Casual sex has never interested me, but I understand the occasional need for it.
“Why the concern in your voice?” she asks.
“I know men,” I say. “Give them an app to hide behind and they’re even worse.”
She looks at me, considering whether she buys my explanation. She doesn’t, but she doesn’t press the matter. “The girls next door haven’t talked up MeetCute yet? I know you were over there earlier.”
“Meet what?”
“A dating app they created.”
“Huh.” I always imagined they would be entrepreneurs, but a dating app? That doesn’t seem like Deanna’s style. And Lexi never really dated when I knew her before. But maybe she’s changed. Maybe that was just a teenage phase and she’s past it now, ready for something long-term. With me? Possibly…
Grandma nods. “Supposedly has the best matching algo in the world. You don’t even add a profile pic. It’ll find your perfect match based on nothing but cold, hard facts.” She holds her hands apart. “Do you believe that?”
“No.” If I was on that app, I doubt it would match me with Lexi. On paper, we’re too different. But love isn’t about what’s on paper. There’s a magic to it that can’t be calculated.
“Me neither,” she says.
Grandma is like me in some ways. She believes in magic. Only her idea of magic skews toward sex, not love. She writes erotica. That’s her full-time job.
My grandmother, the erotica author.
When I was a kid, she kept the mentions of the subject vague.Your grandma writes books about relationships for adults. Then, when I turned thirteen, she explained it to me—along with giving me “the talk.”
