Page 35 of Romance Languages

“I’m not being referred to as a bra.”

“We’ll figure out a name for you.”

“Julian.” An old lady called out to him. She was dressed in oversized sunglasses and a red and blue warm up suit with dumbbells in each arm.

“Grandma!” Julian gently stepped out of our bubble and hugged the old lady. He kissed her on the cheek.

“What are you doing at Renegade Park?”

“Getting my exercise in. When you’re eighty, you can’t fuck around with your health.”

My eyebrows jumped. I’d never heard old people spout off curse words so easily. I thought when you got older, you learned to stop cursing. That whole maturity thing.

To her credit, she was in great shape. She was small, but not frail.

“Usually I do my walk at Hudson Park, but Shirley Millberg is playing tennis there, and we’re not speaking. She bowed out of our canasta game at the last minute with no explanation, and we couldn’t find a replacement. We had to cancel. Bitch.”

“I’m sorry. Hopefully, you can play next week,” Julian said.

“When you’re my age, you never want to put something off until next week.”

Made sense.

I got a kick out of her. My grandparents had passed away when I was a little kid—one of the downsides of being the youngest child. I remembered a candy dish filled with Werther’s Originals in their apartment, and that was it.

“Where’s Grandpa?” Julian asked.

“He’s fishing in his usual spot. Here, let’s walk and talk. I want to keep my pace.” She continued walking on the trail. Julian and I bundled up the equipment and caught up to her. Grandma waited for no man.

“Grandma, this is Seamus. Seamus, this is my Grandma Judy.”

“Great to meet you!” I held out a hand to shake, but it was no use. She wasn’t letting go of her dumbbells.

“Likewise. Julian, it’s a good thing I ran into you. Your mother is going on and on about the color of the tablecloths for the shindig. I think she’s trying to give me a heart attack, an actual heart attack. She thinks white is too plain, but going with a color is too bold. Neutral would be best, but she can’t decide what kind of neutral. Eggshell, champagne, on and on. I told her it’s a fucking tablecloth. As long as the food is good, nobody will care.”

I snorted. Old people cursing was fun.

“You know your mother.” They shared a knowing eye roll.

“She’s not good with making decisions,” Julian said. “I’m surprised she offered to help.”

“She means well.” Grandma Judy shook her head, a pained look on her face. “It’s a good thing I ran into you. I’m taking you up on your offer to help. This party is turning into a disaster.”

“Of course.”

“I know you’re busy with school, but…”

“Grandma, I got it covered. I’ll reach out to Mom.” Julian didn’t hesitate, just like he hadn’t hesitated to help me this afternoon. He really was a thoughtful, kind person. Why the hell didn’t other guys see that?

“You’re a gem, Julian. You really are.”

“It’s my pleasure. I want to celebrate you and Grandpa. Fifty years is a huge milestone.”

“Eh, it’s no different from forty-nine, but I’ll never turn down a party.”

We rounded a corner that led to a long bridge that went over a pond. The water reflected the trees and sky like nature’s mirror.

Grandma Judy switched to pressing her weights overhead without her pace lagging.

---