Page 37 of Cinnamon Roll Set Up

He shakes his head at me.

With all the apple-related excitement at the Harvest Festival, Georgia didn’t have a chance to ask me more questions as my wingwoman. It’s unlikely the reprieve will last, but I remain optimistic. “Maybe she won’t come up with anyone and we’ll coast through until the end of October. Then I’ll just take her as my date.”

A man can dream.

“That doesn’t sound like the tenacious woman you’ve described to me.”

No, it does not. “If I know Georgia, she’ll have another date set up before the next week is out.”

“This is a weird mess to be in, man.”

I’m well aware.

Chapter 13

Georgia

Of all the things I’m confident wielding, an electric drill is not on the list. I like paintbrushes and tablet pencils, not things with motors that could seriously injure a person if used incorrectly.

I’m almost guaranteed to use it incorrectly.

“This feels like a mistake,” I say, keeping my trigger finger at an angle so I can’t accidentally turn the thing on.

Grandpa just chuckles. “You can do it, Georgie. Just go slowly and hit the places we marked.”

He’s sitting in a camp chair in the carport at my apartment complex. It’s a pretty warm day, but he’s still bundled in a flannel shirt and puffy coat. I thought Sam was going to come by to help us do all the hard parts on the bike bookmobile today, but Grandpa had other plans. He thinksIshould do it.

This must be where I get my unfounded optimism.

We’re gradually converting the wooden storage box on the adult tricycle into a cute little book display, complete with two rows of shelves and hinged doors on top and front for access. Sam already installed the bookshelves, and I painted the inside white and the outside the same hunter green as Dogeared’s interior. But now we have to put all the doors on.

I move the dangerous-looking drill bit closer to the mark, but then pull it away again. “I don’t want to ruin the wood. Are you sure you can’t do it?”

“Oh, I’m much too feeble for that.”

Hmm. Also a bit of a liar. He’s remarkably spry for eighty-seven, and Iknowhe could handle this project himself if he wanted to. “I think you’re feeble when it’s convenient.”

“That’s right, and it’s convenient for me now.” He makes himself more comfortable in the chair, and I get the message. He has no intention of moving. “You won’t learn if you don’t try.”

I keep my grumbling to myself and turn back to the wood. Apparently, using a drill is an important life skill or something. I’ve gotten by pretty well these last twenty-eight years without it, but Grandpa’s determined.

Finally, I put the drill to the wood and give it a go. It’s…not that bad. I start and stop about as much as I did back when he taught me to drive a stick shift, but I get the holes made.

I start installing the hinges I bought, but with a normal handheld screwdriver. Not everything needs to be electric and supercharged today.

“See?” he says, gloating the same way he does after an epic backgammon battle. “It’s not so bad when you get out of your own way and let yourself try.”

That takes me straight back to my conversation with Miles at the Harvest Festival.You can’t succeed if you don’t try.I know this on a logical level, but on the heart level? It’s all gibberish.

“That lesson’s true of a lot of things,” Grandpa adds.

“Do I have to learn how to use the power saw next?” I might give up the project entirely if he insisted on that.

“I’m thinking more like relationships.”

There’s way too much understanding in his eyes, so I refocus on the pretty brass hardware. I liked it better when heused his meddling to help Sam get back together with Harper. It’s a little too much when he aims it my way. Like when you’re relaxing at the beach, but then somebody’s watch reflects the sun in your eyes and you’re temporarily blinded.

“Are you going to teach me how to date boys, Grandpa?” I put a lilt of teasing into my question.

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