Page 49 of My Wife
“Grandma Dolly, you know Leah. Leah, this is Liam Ellis.”
“Yeah. I know who he is.” Unlike Jessica and her irrigation system of happiness, this woman actually glowers at me.
Leah says something about Heidi and her baby Bunny—I’m pretty sure that’s a health code violation in an establishment like this. The three women disappear to a nearby booth as the bubbles in my beverage deflate. Then, returning to the table, they gush about Heidi’s cute baby and not a critter that snuck into the restaurant.
Leah gives us the formal spiel about how O’Neely’s specializes in corn and potato dishes, featuring five special sauces.
She asks, “What can I get for the guy who ruined my fantasy hockey league winning streak because he had to go laugh at the coach and take a leave of absence?”
Awaiting my response to that projectile, Grandma Dolly tilts her head at an appraising angle.
Jessica leans in like I’m about to tell her the secret family cake recipe.
“I’m good.” I’m not sure where my appetite is at—my mind is on hockey, but the space between my head and the aforementioned abs fills with static. I can’t get a read on it other than I feel whooshy. I’ll have to ask the team doc to check my vitals.
Jessica says, “You can’t just order water. We’ll take a double order of loaded potato skin pub pucks. This makes my second this week.” She bounces in her seat like that’s a major accomplishment.
Grandma Dolly gives the thumbs up.
“Making up for lost time.” Before Leah leaves, Jessica gets a smile and I get another dirty look.
Grandma Dolly and Leah exchange a knowing nod that makes me wonder if they’re up to something.
I have a strange feeling that Jessica didn’t only bring her grandmother here because she’s a super fan. Actually, I’m the one who called this meeting. Did she reverse-bait me? Have I been reeled in by the most unsuspecting and possibly unrelentingly cheerful person on the planet? If so, touché.
I’m ready to get down to business and get out of here. The less time I spend with this woman the more likely I am to retain my common sense. “We need to discuss the rules.”
“Be my guest,” Jessica says with a flourish of her hand.
“Yours seem to be outside the bounds of the assistant-boss relationship.”
“I work best with cream in my coffee.”
“You’re working remotely, you can get your own coffee.”
“I’m more of a people person. Things will work out better between us if we have more face-to-face time.”
Grandma Dolly signs.
Jessica translates. “She says you have a very nice face.”
I snort. “Is she trying to butter me up?”
“She would like a signed jersey, but I’ll have to leave the two of you to settle that since I’m not allowed to touch your jersey.”
“I said I didn’t want you wearing it.”
Surfacing from the malaise of constantly keeping one eye and ear on the kid, I concede that was a little aggressive.
Grandma Dolly signs again.
Jessica’s chest rises and falls with a long sigh. “She said she’ll make you cookies. Oh, but you don’t like cookies, do you?”
“I never said I didn’t like them. I just don’t eat them.”
Jessica rolls her eyes. “In the short time I’ve known you, I’ve observed that you have a certain kind of mental toughness, likely required for the rigors of your sport. However, I’m not sure how well it works with day-to-day life.”
“I didn’t ask for your psychoanalysis.”
