Page 15 of Here Comes Santa Paws

“Wanted to remind you who holds the power in this family.” Gramps ended the call before I could snark back. God, I loved that old man.

Chapter 8

Roman

ROMAN

I studied Jim’s walk as he did laps between the dining chair and recliner.

“Have you been doing your exercises? Walking as we discussed?”

Jim flipped me off over his shoulder. “Already told you I have. You want me to video record myself as proof?”

I chuckled under my breath. “Not a bad idea.”

“You think I’m supposed to be moving jauntily? I just had my hip replaced, my mattress is as comfortable as a bag of rocks, and it feels like I’m being stabbed in the hip with a hot poker. But yes, Your Honor, I swear on a Bible that I’m doing my homework.”

“You’d better be. If you don’t, you’re the only one who will suffer.”

Jim lowered himself onto the recliner and winced. “Yeah, yeah. So, what are you going to torture me with today?”

This was a hard time in a patient’s recovery. The adrenaline of post-surgery had passed and the hard work had set in.

“You feeling up to a walk outside since it’s dry?”

Color flushed Jim’s cheeks from his exertion, and he lit up at the idea. “Sure. I’m tired of looking at these walls.”

I’d figured. We walked slowly with Jim gripping his cane, but his mood improved immediately when he sucked in lungfuls of fresh air from his porch.

“I’m spending too much time inside.”

I nodded as I watched to make sure he had steady footing on the smooth sidewalk. Fortunately, it was dry. We should be good to avoid slipping hazards.

“That’s something folks often underestimate. Even if we think we’re sedentary, many of us still leave the house a lot or pop up frequently to grab things or use the bathroom. It’s tough having to keep your movement to such a strict minimum.”

He sighed. “It is. At least I’m getting lots of company and even better food.”

The streets were quiet on the Friday afternoon except for the audience of creepy Christmas inflatables in half the yards around us. The sky was gray and overcast.

“My grandson made my favorite mac-and-cheese. He’s such a wonderful young man. You’d like him. He makes sure to visit me several times a week.”

I was so focused on his mobility that I didn’t initially notice his suggestive tone.

“I’m worried about him. He’s been having such a hard time at work lately. He’s trying to find someone to foster this sweet dog, but no one’s coming through for him.” He aimed familiar pleading eyes at me. “Not to mention the massive damage at the animal shelter he runs. He could really use someone to take a stressor off his plate. Did I mention what a lovely young man he is? Great cook.”

I stopped walking as the pieces clicked into place. “Your grandson is Elias?” I should’ve put it together. I’d seen the samesurname as Jim’s on Elias’s mail when it had been accidentally dropped in my mailbox. There probably weren’t a lot of Rochas in town.

“You know him?” Jim’s innocent act didn’t fool me for a second.

“We’re focusing on surgery recovery, not animal shelters or grandsons who have too damn many animals in his tiny place to bring in a big, beautiful dog on top of it.” And especially not the fact that Elias had been taking up far too much real estate in my brain the past two days. Even longer, if I were being brutally honest with myself.

I had a morbid curiosity about him. Always chatting with our neighbors, shoveling the sidewalk for the old guy across the street, talking to his dogs like they were human, and being friendly to me despite everything about me screaming for him to leave me the hell alone.

Jim’s grin widened, which made me glower harder.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

With the aid of his cane, he turned and began walking back to his house. “Like what?”

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