Page 2 of Perfect Score

“I’m your only grandson…and yes, I’m on my flight, but some asshole is holding up the plane,” I say. “What are you about to ask for now?”

I might sound annoyed, but in reality, I’m looking forward to her answer. My gran is full of surprises that usually have me laughing my ass off after we hang up the phone.

And when The Hawkeyes endure a soul-crushing loss, her calls are the comedic relief I need to pull me out of my funk.Sometimes, I put her on speaker in the locker room after a loss so the guys can hear her curse about the referee's bad calls or to give us her unique play-by-play of the game as if she’s a wacky sportscaster.

The guys love her crazy antics, but not more than I do.

“It’s nothing big, you know… just that you need to grant a dying woman her last wish.”

I roll my eyes and smirk.

Great… here we go.

“You’re not dying, Gran,” I say dryly.

She’s been using this line since I was eight years old, and it used to scare me shitless at the thought of losing my grandmother, but now I’m at the realization that this woman is probably going to outlive me.

Considering what I do for a living, I’m definitely closer to death than she is.

“Don’t be so sure. I might die with all these STDs floating around this retirement home. It’s near impossible to get men to wear condoms at this age.”

“Gran… please,” I say, trying to get her to change the subject.

“I’m just telling you. There are more used condoms floating around this place than in a packed frat house. The plumber is on a regular rotation to unclog the toilets every few months because some idiots forget you can’t flush them down the toilet.”

I slap my hand to my forehead.

Why in the hell am I having this conversation with my grandmother? My sister Tessa should be handling this conversation. She’s practically my Gran’s mini-me and those two can go rounds about this stuff.

I refrain from using the word “gross” out loud. I used it once when Gran told me about her next-door neighbor's boyfriend getting Viagra and keeping Gran up all night with their headboard banging against the wall until dawn.

Evidently, using the word “gross” when referring to elderly people boning at all hours of the night and putting holes in the drywall is extremely offensive to my grandmother.

Once, she called me an ageist.

She was kidding… I think.

So now I just say it in my head…

…gross.

“Alright, I’ll bite. What do you want as your last dying wish, Gran?” I ask with a dramatic sigh.

At this point, I’ll discuss anything she wants to ask as long as it has nothing to do with the sagging ball dilemma of the St. Clair Retirement Community.

“I want you to settle down with a nice girl. Have a couple of kids… spread those Tomlin genes around a little, and give me some great-grandchildren. You’re the last to keep the Tomlin name going, and Grandpa would be proud to see you pass it on.”

My grandfather died of a heart attack when I was a baby, and my parents died when I was in high school. My grandmother, my great uncle, and Tessa are the last blood I have left. With Tessa getting married next summer to Lake Powers, the Hawkeyes left wing and one of my best friends, she’ll no longer be a Tomlin. Which means that the Tomlin name dies with me if I don’t have a son.

Still, I don’t need the pressure.

“Tessa is giving you great grandkids. In fact, she's cooking you one right now.”

Tessa’s pregnancy is still new. She just found out last week, and I was her first call since she and I keep very little from each other—a product of only having each other to rely on at a young age. Gran knows, too.

I thought the idea that Tessa having a baby would get her off my back, but I guess not.

“It’s time for you to settle down just like your sister. Plant some roots. Find someone to love that pug-nose face of yours.”

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