Page 68 of That Time I Kissed The Groomsman Grump
“So I offered to stop by today for a preliminary chat about the changes,” Grantly says. He motions to my bridesmaid dress. “But I didn’t realize you all would be this deep into wedding events already.”
My mother scoffs. “We’ve been this deep since December. That’s what happens when your son waits forever to pick a date, then wants to get married six months later.”
I shake my head, biting back a sigh. “Grant is an actual lawyer with a real practice, Mom. He shouldn’t have to make house calls.”
“I don’t mind,” he hurries to say. “I meet clients in their homes all the time. Some of them even offer me fresh-baked brownies.” He sweeps his gaze back to my mom. “That’s just the beauty of a small town. And if you don’t mind my mentioning it, my brother’s a pretty good handyman, Mrs. Slater. I’m sure he’d be happy to fix that hole in your ceiling.”
“Did you hear that, Natalie?” My mother points at Grant like she’s giving my ears directions. “Thisis the kind of service you get here in Abieville,” she says. “Now, I ask you, Grantly: Can you imagine any big-time lawyer in Los Angeles offering door-to-door service? Or having a brother who can fix ceiling holes?”
“No, I cannot.” Grant guffaws at the very idea. “Then again, my imagination isn’t that great.” When he crosses his legs, his knee bumps the underside of the table.
“Oh, Mom.” I sigh. “You’re so transparent, I can almost see your skeleton.”
“Ooh!” She throws a finger in the air. “That reminds me.” She scurries to check the calendar thumb-tacked to her pantry door. “I need to confirm the appointment for my bone density exam next week.”
“Ah.” A smirk takes over my face. “Maybe the doctor can come here to administer the test. Another house call could save you the trip. Your orthopedist might like brownies too.”
My mom glances over her shoulder. “Sue me for wanting to point out the advantages of a small town to my only daughter.”
“Maybe Iwillsue you.” I arch a brow. “Grantly, do you make house calls to California?”
“Hardy har har.” My mom reaches around to tighten the knot on her apron.
“I’m just kidding, Mom. But can I go upstairs and get changed now? Or do you need me to stick around and discuss the updated wills with you and Grantly?”
“Of course you can change. And for your information, I already told Grantly I’d call to schedule an official appointment.” She turns to face him. “But since you’re here, Grantly, and the brownies aren’t quite done, maybe you could stay and give Natalie a ride over to The Beachfront when she’s ready.” She throws her hands up to cover her mouth. “Or is that too much to ask? I’m sorry if it’s too much to ask!”
“It’s not too much,” he says. “Happy to do it. If it’s okay with—”
“That’s so nice of you to offer,” I interrupt. “But I thought I’d just borrow a car.”
“I’m sorry, Natalie.” My mother crosses the kitchen to retrieve her hot pads in the shape of jackrabbits. “But your father is over with Phil Graham setting up tents for the post-wedding brunch on Sunday.”
“What about the station wagon?”
“I’ve got Bunco with the girls on Thursdays,” she says. “That’s why I’m making my famous fudge brownies. I bring a dessert like this with me every week.” Her mouth curves down—a slope of sadness—and my stomach sinks.
I almost wish she would’ve added something like, “You would know this if you were home more often, Natalie. Or if you called more often. Or if you were basically more in touch.” In that case, I could get defensive, which—apparently—comes easier to me. Instead, she stands there quietly, both arms dangling at her sides. My heart hurts for her. And is a little mad at me.
“The brownies smell delicious,” I say softly. “And Bunko sounds like fun.”
“It really is,” she says. “I can only hope the brownies are delicious.”
“So.” The last thing I want to do is get a ride to the inn from Grant, but I’m out of options that don’t make me even more of a self-centered princess. “If it’s all right with you, Grantly, I’d very much appreciate a ride.”
“More than all right.” He uncrosses his legs and winks. “And remember. It’s Grant now.”
ChapterTwenty-Eight
A TEXT THREAD WITH THE GROOMSMEN: NO GROOMS ALLOWED!
BRADY:Hello, men. T-minus thirty minutes and counting. The bachelor party is coming at us in a half hour. You all good to go?
MAC: Can’t wait. I’ve got some catching up to do.
FORD: MAC! You made it!
MAC: Indeed we did.
