Page 14 of Merry Me
“She’s going for tragic,” MeMaw whispered back.
“We’re keeping things simple this year because of Paige’s wedding,” Mom said, setting a tray of cookies that she’d just pulled out of the oven down on the counter.
The scent of them instantly filled the kitchen—store-bought cookie dough baked to perfection. If there was an Olympic category for baking pre-portioned dough, my mom would medal every time.
“Simple is for funerals, Emily, not Christmas,” MeMaw declared, plucking a cookie right off the tray and biting into it like it wasn’t burning hot. “And these better not be any of that gluten-free bullshit, or I’m walking right back out that door.”
Aunt Kathy was gluten-free, and MeMaw had happened to come over for a meal my mom had attempted to cook for my aunt. MeMaw had taken one bite of the brown rice pasta and actually spit it back onto her plate, coughing like she was dying.
Good times.
“They’re not, Dorothy,” my dad said as he came backin with MeMaw’s keys. He leaned in close as he passed by. “She’d made it all the way into the bushes this time,” he whispered in my ear.
“Good. I don’t trust anyone who doesn’t eat real cookies,” MeMaw announced, chewing loudly as her ornaments swung wildly under her ears like wrecking balls. “Back in my day, we didn’t waste time with all this organic nonsense. We ate what we wanted and then handled the consequences like adults—with a shot of whiskey and a good lie.”
“Wise words, Mom,” my mother drawled.
MeMaw ignored her completely.
“And speaking of men,” MeMaw said suddenly.
“She wasn’t,” I cut in, but it was too late.
“It’s my understanding you’re still single.”
I grimaced. “MeMaw…”
“What?” she asked, blinking innocently. “I’m just saying. A girl as pretty as you ought to be snatched up by now. The men should be tripping all over themselves. I blame these boys today. No grit. No guts. Not like your Papaw. Or Ronald from next door. They knew their way around a woman’s hoo-ha, that’s for sure.”
My dad made a choking sound.
“Don’t act like you weren’t impressed by his Corvette and those calves. That man knew how to use a resistance band.”
He started choking again and wandered off to refill his drink.
“I think I’m good on the dating advice,” I said quickly, grabbing a cookie to stuff in my mouth before she could push further.
“Well, fine,” she said with a sniff. “But don’t come crying to me when you end up alone with twenty cats.”
“Maybe I like cats,” I muttered.
“You don’t,” she shot back without missing a beat. “Now, someone pour me a drink before I say something rude.”
“You just said something rude,” Aunt Kathy pointed out.
“I meant ruder,” MeMaw replied sweetly as she glided…okay, clomped…toward the living room, muttering about the tree and “these bland cookies.”
I was grinning as I watched her go.
That was tame for her.
At least she hadn’t brought up Easton.
Yet.
With my luck…it was only a matter of time.
All was going shockingly well until I heard the front door creak open, followed by the familiarthunk-thunkof boots on tile and the soft murmur of voices. A few seconds later, Paige swept into the kitchen with…Levi.
