I guess a bit of distraction won’t hurt. “Fine. I’ll see you there.”
“You can drive with me. I can pick Frankie up on our way.”
I look down at my Sunday wear consisting of a ratty sweatshirt with yogurt stains and a pair of sweatpants so thin at the crotch they’re nearly see-through. Grandma would shit a brick if I showed up in this outfit.
Although, maybe if I showed up in my usual Sunday garb, Grandma would lay off her plan to matchmake me. The ‘real’ Violet is no prize. Oh, who am I kidding? She’d throw me in the shower and then dress me in her grandma clothes. Yikes.
“I’ll drive myself.”
“But I will see you there, right?”
“Yeah, yeah.” I shove Brodie out the door before I can change my mind.
Fifteen minutes later, I’ve showered, tamed my rat’s nest into a ponytail, and put on clothes I’m not embarrassed to be seen in. Brodie opens the door when I arrive. “Thank god.”
“None of your friends like me,” I hear Grandma whine as I walk into the house. I immediately freeze. It’s the ‘make your grandchild guilty’ hour and I want no part of it.
“Sure, they do, Grandma. Everyone’s busy is all. Shelby and Jackson were here last week with Bailey and Roman, remember?”
I become unstuck. “Hey! Why didn’t I get an invite? Are invites only for couples? Not fair.” I must be losing it. Why am I arguing to be invited to Grandma’s?
“Violet!” Grandma rushes me and throws her arms around me. “Why didn’t anyone tell me you were joining us today?” She releases me to glare at her granddaughter.
“Maybe so you wouldn’t have time to find me a date,” I mumble.
“I heard that young lady.” How is it possible an eighty-five-year-old woman has better hearing than I do? “And just because the first date wasn’t a success—”
“I think you mean failure,” I interrupt to correct her.
“Don’t exaggerate.” She wags her finger at me. “And don’t interrupt me.”
“I’m hungry,” Grandpa Bill declares. Grandma buttons her lips and she shuffles from the room. I stare at Bill in awe. He winks. “Years of practice,” he answers in response to my look which is screaming how the hell did you manage that.
“Soup’s on!” Grandma shouts from the kitchen.
I nearly collapse from relief when I see there isn’t an extra place setting in the dining room. I wouldn’t put it past Grandma to stage an intervention with me and Luke. I will not be attending any freaking interventions, you can bet your life on it!
Grandma walks in carrying a huge platter with roasted salmon. My mouth starts to water. I love fish, but since it’s November, salmon is not in my budget. Especially now as I’m trying to save money to move into the city where I’m being forced to take a lesser job for less pay. Not how I expected to spend my thirtieth year on this earth, but whatever. I’ve been through worse. This too shall pass.
“Here’s your multivitamin,” Grandma says as she hands Frankie a big-honking pill.
“What? Why? I don’t need a multivitamin.”
“Oh yes you do,” Grandma disagrees. “I read on the line taking a multivitamin boosts fertility.”
Frankie nearly chokes on the vitamin before spitting it out. “I don’t need my fertility boosted!”
“You know you’re fertile? You’re sure? You know nowadays you can go to the doctor and they can do all kinds of checks.”
Frankie blushes. “I’m pretty sure I’m fertile.”
Grandma grins. “You’re pregnant then. It finally took?”
“Um, no. I’m not pregnant, but I am fertile?”
“Are you asking me or telling me?” Grandma asks.
“Move on, Nancy,” Bill orders. I think he’s my hero.
Grandma switches her attack to Brodie. “I made salmon for you. It should increase your sperm count.”
Brodie flushes and his hands move to cover the front of his pants. Is he afraid Grandma is going to try and extract the sperm herself? I giggle and wonder why I didn’t want to join Grandma for the Sunday meal. Sunday meals are the best!
“I also have dark chocolate banana muffins for dessert. It’s a double whammy. Dark chocolate and bananas. Both should increase sperm count.”
“Now do you understand why I begged Brodie to get you over here today?” Frankie saddles up to me to ask in a whisper.
I nod. “I’m having the best time.”
“Just wait,” she cautions. “Things can change on a dime in this house.”
“Come on, come on. Everyone take a seat and let’s start. I have it on good authority Sunday evening is a loving night for Frankie and Brodie.”
“I am going to kill Shelby. Kill her dead,” Frankie announces, but she does take her seat.
“Now, now. Shelby is a wonderful friend to you. There’s no need for that kind of talk.” Grandma dumps nearly half of the salmon onto Brodie’s plate. He shakes his head but doesn’t say anything. He’s not a stupid man.
“Oh, shoot!” Grandma jumps to her feet and hustles to the kitchen. When she returns, she sets a pill on my plate. “I nearly forgot.”
Change on a dime, Frankie mouths to me.
I narrow my eyes on her as I take the stupid pill, although I know for a fact fertility is not one of my problems and getting pregnant is most definitely not on my radar. It’s not even physically possible at this point. Not when I’ve been living like a reborn virgin. And I have no plans to lose my reborn V-card anytime soon.
Chapter 9
If I say ‘fine’, it means I’ve won the argument and you need to shut up now. ~ Violet’s Secret Thoughts
When I park my car at the restaurant, I immediately realize I’m underdressed. It’s Bailey’s going-away party. I figured we’d meet at some bar, get stinking drunk, and embarrass ourselves. Bailey – or probably her uber-rich husband-to-be – thought otherwise. Because this is no bar. Nope. This is some fancy-dancy wine bar slash restaurant.
But there is no way in hell I’m going home to change. It took enough courage for me to drive here in the first place. Because he who ‘I’d like to forget but freaking can’t’ will be here tonight. Bailey offered to uninvite him, but I wouldn’t let her. Don’t get me wrong, I considered it – a lot. The guy already thinks I’m a total bitch, what difference would it make? Here’s the problem: I’m not actually a total bitch.
Okay, I nod to myself, I’ve got this. My big girl panties are firmly in place. Let’s do this. My first thought upon entering the wine bar is what the hell is Bailey doing here? She is a beer girl all the way, and there is not a beer tap in sight. The entire back wall behind the bar counter is filled with bottle after bottle of wine. Probably all way above my budget.
Bailey rushes over when she sees me. “I’m glad you came!”
“Of course, I came. You’re my friend.” I hug her up tight. “I can’t believe you’re leaving me.”
“I’m not leaving you. I’m leaving F&J’s Events. We’ll still see each other. And don’t forget, we have Shelby’s wedding and my wedding coming up.”