Page 30 of Raise The Bar
“You’re breaking my heart, Grams,” I plead, clutching my chest. “You’re the one woman I thought would always love me, regardless of how hideous I am.”
I hear hertskas she reaches for something and the next thing I know, she’s waving a wooden spoon at the screen. “There is nothing you could do to make yourself hideous, my boy. All of my grandchildren are beautiful and everyone knows it.”
“But I’m still your favorite, right?”
“I love all my grandbabies equally, you know that,” she says loudly like someone may be eavesdropping, then leans closer to the phone and gives me a wink. “Don’t tell your cousins!”
“I think the second pie is ready to come out–” my mother starts but is cut off.
“I’ll be the judge of that,” Grams says as she disappears from view, soon to be replaced by my mother’s smiling face.
“How is your weekend going, love?”
“It’s been great,” I answer honestly. Obviously, a huge part of that is how my weekend started. The surprise kiss from Maggie has got to be the best weekend kick-off ever and I’ve been riding that high for the last forty-five hours. I haven’t seen her since, but the memories of Friday night are permanently tattooed on my brain. The way she felt, how she tasted: it has all been coming back to me in waves since I last saw her.
We’ve exchanged some friendly texts that border on flirtatious. I’d messaged her an hour after she left my place to see how her bath was going. She’d text back to say it was good. I then asked for more details, saying I’m a big visual learner, prompting her to send me a picture of her feet covered in bubbles. I’d groaned when I got it, knowing she was naked in a bathtub fifteen minutes from me.
We sent a few texts back and forth yesterday too, more casual ones like those between friends. Because that’s what we are. We are friends. Maggie is my friend.
Your friend that you’d be willing to chew your left arm off to see naked.
I haven’t texted her since yesterday afternoon when I asked her where her date was and she didn’t respond. I don’t blame her. If she told me, I probably would have shown up and she knew it. I didn’t tell her that I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I didn’t ask her to come over again, even though I wanted to.
I’d ended up going out with Josh and Sulli to a pool hall frequented mostly by locals. There were a few other guys from school and a couple more that I didn’t know. It had been a decent time with friends. Drank a bit too much, talked a bit too late. There had been girls there and a couple of them expressed interest in me, but I didn’t reciprocate. Josh didn’t mention Maggie, aside from asking how our meeting went. Since he didn’t give me a hard time about her, I’m guessing he doesn’t know that she kissed me. If he doesn’t know we kissed, I’m going to assume Betty doesn’t know either.
I was surprised, and maybe a bit hurt, that Maggie didn’t tell Betty. They’re best friends and roommates, I would think they’d tell each other everything. Is she embarrassed by it? Does she regret it?
God, I hope she doesn’t regret it.
“Everyone is so excited to see you next month, sweetie.” My mom’s voice interrupts my depressing thoughts which is probably for the best. “Have you booked your flights yet?”
“Not yet,” I have a reminder on my schedule to book the flight sometime this week. “But I will soon.”
“Perfect! We’ve booked the community center and I’ve confirmed everything with the caterers for the party.” She’s referring to my grandparent’s fiftieth wedding anniversary party. The entire family is heading home to Tampa to celebrate with them. “Of course, your grandmother thinks we shouldn’t have gone to the trouble and should have planned a potluck instead.”
“If people are too lazy to make and bring a dish, then maybe they should just stay home,” Grams says from off screen and Mom and I laugh. “Tell him about Marsha’s granddaughter.” Oh no. Here we go.
“Mom, he’s not going to date Marsha’s granddaughter. She’s too young for him. Besides, Cecily already has a boyfriend.”
“But Marsha doesn’t like him,” my grandmother hisses, coming into frame. “He rides a motorcycle and he smokes marijuana.” She pronounces is phonetically; mar-i-ju-ana. It’s so hard not to laugh.
“I’m pretty sure it’s a scooter,” Mom responds with an exaggerated eye-roll and I can’t take it any longer. I laugh loud and hard and my mom joins in. I miss these ridiculous women. “Besides,” she says after a moment. “The girl just turned twenty. Callum needs someone his own age.” Thank you, mom.
“He needs someone, alright,” my grandmother huffs and leans towards the phone. “I’m not getting any younger, my boy. I would like to see you settled before I go to the great gates.”
“Are you planning another trip to Graceland, Grams?” I tease her, but back down when I see she’s waving her spoon again. “One, we all know that you’re going to outlive us all. And two, how could I possibly make room for any more women in my life when the two of you already own my heart?”
“The boy could charm a snake right out of its basket,” Grams grumbles to my mother. “That’s how he got all that money out of the Google.” After she’s walked away, my mother’s face centers on the screen.
“She just wants you to be happy,” Mom says, suddenly looking sad. I hate seeing my mom sad. “We all do.”
“I keep telling you, Mom, I am happy.” Why do I constantly feel like I have to justify my life choices to everyone lately?
“Well, if you’re happy, I’m happy,” she says, putting on a fake smile. I know it’s fake because I used to see it all the time when Steven was still alive. “And who knows? Maybe you’ll meet a nice girl and bring her home for the party. It’s a month away. A lot can happen in a month.”
“Sure, Mom.” I give her the same phony smile back. “You never know.”
Chapter 18
