Page 34 of Unsupervised
He grins a little when I stare at him, shocked that he’s changing his tune. “Look, it’s not the most ethical way to meet someone, but I haven’t seen you interested in anyone since your break up. Even that other chick you dated for a few months, the older one, you weren’t that into her.”
“Kelly is eight years younger than me.”
“So, you can date older women, but she can’t date older men? Sexist,” Dalton taunts.
Running my hands through my hair, I groan. “Why do I ask you assholes for advice?”
“We’re all you’ve got,” Dalton says, slapping my shoulder. “Now come on and let’s get this shit done. I’ve got to get a wax before this weekend. I have a threesome. Can’t go in looking like Sascrotch.”
We head outside and start carrying in furniture and boxes again. Dalton carries a stack of boxes higher than his head, and his voice is a little muffled when he asks, “Did you try that dating app I told you about?”
That app is a nightmare. It didn’t take me two weeks to figure that out. “So far I’ve talked to two women who just seem to want to chat when they’re bored but not meet, one who was looking for a threesome with her husband, and another who offered to piss on me for the low price of two hundred dollars.”
Travis cracks up, nearly dropping the table he’s carrying. “Is that the going rate now?”
“Wait,” Dalton says, dropping the boxes in the kitchen. “She pays you or you pay her?”
“Does it matter?” I hold up my hand as soon as the words leave my mouth. “Never mind. Forget I asked.”
“Don’t you kink shame him,” Travis says.
“I’m not into getting pissed on, but hell, if they’re into that, I’ll fill up a bucket for them for two hundred dollars.”
After we carry in the last load, Travis asks me a question that sticks in my head the rest of the evening. “If you’d met Kelly somewhere else, if she hadn’t been your student, would you have dated her? Or is it really the age thing?”
I’m met with a grin and a nod when I don’t answer.
I have just enough time to get home, feed and walk Midnight, and grab a shower to wash off all the grime and sweat before heading to the retirement home. Today is Grandma’s birthday and I’m finally ready to surprise her by playing a song on the piano, simple as it is. I’ve practiced Happy Birthday until I could play it blindfolded.
When I walk into the lounge, balancing two packages, Grandma calls out. “There’s my Layton! You’re just in time for cake!”
Grandma sits at a long table with a few residents, while others are seated in the chairs and rockers throughout the room. Half of them are wearing paper hats and the lounge is decorated with streamers and balloons. I’m so glad to see that she’s aware. She had a bad spell last time I was here and kept forgetting who I was.
“Well, don’t just stand there with your thumb up your backside! I don’t turn seventy-nine every day you know. Get over here and hug me.”
Yeah, she’s herself today. “Happy Birthday.” I set the packages in front of her and give her a careful hug.
“Oh, you remembered the cake! Thank you.” She leans back and yells across the room. “Agnes! My grandson brought a sugar free cake so you can have some.”
She asked me if I could bring a small sugar free cake because Agnes’s diabetes means she often gets left out of the treats. Depending on the day, or sometimes the hour, Agnes is either my grandmother’s friend or nemesis. They’ve been frenemies since the moment they met. Sometimes I think we should do a DNA test to see if they’re related. Under her breath, she mumbles, “I’m not eating that shit. I get the good stuff.”
“This is for you,” I tell her, handing her a flat, wrapped package.
“I told you not to be spending money on me. I have everything I need,” she says, as she tears into it like a kid.
The retirement home has a few tablets the residents can borrow to play simple games or get online, but they’re limited in time and not the smoothest running machines.
The smile on her face when she sees I’ve brought her a tablet of her own is wide and bright. “I can play Words with Friends all day!”
“It’s already installed,” I laugh, and spend a few minutes showing her that I’ve already put her favorite games on it, along with the browser I know she’s comfortable with.
An orderly comes over to cut the cake and pass out the slices. While he’s doing that, Grandma takes a slice of the sugar free to Agnes. On her way back, she waves her tablet. “Look, Ags, I got a new tablet and my light up shoes. Who’s the hot shit now?”
Sure enough, Grandma is wearing new, bright pink shoes with blinking red lights that flash every time she takes a step.
Agnes grins and holds up a withered middle finger at her before tearing into her cake.
The orderly slides me a small plate with a slice of cake, and I take a seat beside Grandma as we eat. “Where did you get the new shoes?”
