Page 13 of Losing Sleep
“Oh, we’re not—”
“I’m not her—”
Grey and I spoke over each other, racing to get out the words and clarify Dot’s confusion.
“Tory mentioned him when she called. Told me all about how you’d found a man who pushes your buttons and helps you get out of your comfort zone. I’m so glad! You’ve been single for too long. That Lyle boy was an idiot.” Dot rambled on, seeming oblivious to my protests—and Grey’s. Instead, she wrapped Grey in a hug, her head just reaching his chest.
From her permed short white hair to her knit purple cardigan and small, stooped frame, Dot radiated homey and friendly, which made popping her bubble difficult.
“Dot, I don’t know what Tory told you, but Grey and I aren’t dating.” I gestured vaguely between us. “We’re…” I wasn’t really sure how to describe what we were. Acquaintances? Friends? Road trip buddies?
Dot took only a moment to process the information before shaking her head, her grin growing wider. “Really? This old brain of mine struggles sometimes. I must have misunderstood Tory when she called.”
Grey quirked an eyebrow. “If you could jump to that level of misunderstanding, it makes me wonder what Tory said.”
“Oh, now that you ask, I don’t remember. Sometimes it’s a miracle I remember anything at all. Don’t get old, it messes up everything.” Dot waved away the question, but I didn’t believe her for a minute. Dot was sharper than women half her age. Tory had said something that led her to think we were dating, but knowing Dot, she’d never break the confidence and tell us. “I’m sorry about your car, but I’m grateful for the company. I made cookies, and there’s no way Hank and I could eat them all.”
Dot led us into the kitchen, where the aroma of baked goods and several wire racks filled with peanut butter cookies greeted us. The kitchen looked exactly as I remembered: off-white Formica countertops, dated appliances, and faded yellow wallpaper. Yet, despite its clear age, the kitchen was cozy and well-cared for. It was the kind of kitchen that had seen decades of homemade bread and canned peaches.
“Speak for yourself, woman. I could eat all of these, no problem,” Hank joked, coming up behind Dot to wrap his arms around her waist and plop a kiss on top of her head.
“Oh you,” Dot said as she broke out of his embrace and moved towards the avocado-green fridge. “Grab yourselves a cookie or two. Do you want milk?”
“I’m good with just a cookie, thank you,” Grey said, grabbing one and giving me a wink. “But maybe Audrey wants some. Especially if it’s root beer flavored.”
I rolled my eyes, pretending Grey’s familiar comment didn’t faze me, though a small smile tipped the corner of my lips.
Dot’s face pinched in confusion as she pulled the jug of milk from the fridge and held it up for me. “I don’t know about root beer milk, but I’ve got two percent.”
“I’m good, thank you.” I shook my head, my stomach too tied in knots to enjoy food at the moment. My body and brain had yet to fully let go of the nerves from our trip so far. I was struggling to let go of my timeline and embrace the change in plans. Being here in this familiar setting with Dot and Hank should help my nerves settle soon. “I don’t want to spoil dinner.”
Dot returned the milk to the fridge with a nod. “I expect both of you to eat at least two cookies after dinner. Life’s too short not to enjoy dessert.”
“Don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll eat a dozen—or more. Who can say no to your cookies?” Hank asked, carrying a stack of white plates to the table and setting them down with a gentle clank. Dot’s cookies really were the best.
I hadn’t noticed that two pizza boxes and a salad already sat on the worn wooden table.
“We didn’t mean to interrupt your dinner,” I stammered, realizing anew just how much we must have inconvenienced this sweet couple.
“You didn’t. I picked up the pizza while Hank got you. We divided and conquered!” Dot said as she carried over glasses and a pitcher of water, the ice clinking against the glass. “Though, Icouldn’t help but order two kinds. We used to do it to keep picky eaters happy, and old habits die hard.”
She waved for Grey and me to take a seat, and we settled into chairs next to each other, across from Dot and Hank. The old chairs creaked as we sat, the worn, striped cushions doing little to pad our seats.
Hank reached for the closest box, serving himself a slice before passing it to me. At the familiar aroma of pizza, the knot of anxiety that had been sitting in my stomach since we’d discovered the flat tire dissipated and my stomach growled as I grabbed a slice of pepperoni pizza. Everyone served themselves, the only sound the noises that accompanied dishing up and eating food.
“Grey,” Dot said, “tell us about yourself. It’s not every day we get to play host to a handsome young man, particularly one who’s friends with our Audrey. We think of her as another granddaughter, you know.”
I paused my eating, letting her kind words wash over me.
With how infrequently I’d visited them growing up, I doubted my own grandparents would have exhibited this level of curiosity in Grey. The one time I’d taken Lyle to visit, they’d spent the time asking me about my mom and half-sisters, only caring to learn the basics about Lyle when I’d mentioned how long we’d been dating.
When my mom had gotten pregnant with me, my grandparents had stepped in to help as much as they could, but they’d had other children to worry about, their situation already difficult enough to make ends meet. It didn’t help that my mom’s independent streak had often caused her to clash with her parents as she’d insisted she could do things on her own instead of accepting their help, which had often come with strings attached. This meant my grandparents had quickly become infrequent figures in my life, the bulk of their visits happeningover holidays because that was how often my mom could handle being around them.
Dot’s words left me feeling warm and loved, though I struggled knowing how to react. I wanted to wrap Dot in a hug and hold on tight, but I also knew she wasn’tmygrandma. While she spoke the words, did she really mean them?
“What would you like to know?” Grey asked, setting down his slice of pizza to give Dot his full attention.
“Why aren’t you dating Audrey?” Dot asked, brow quirked, a look of complete innocence filling her face.
