Page 223 of Mountain Grump
“I’m putting you on speaker.”
“Wait—”
“Tilda, meet Liza. Liza, meet my wife, Tilda.”
“Oh heavens. Is this real? Did our boy Ethan run off and get married?”
“I’m almost forty,” Ethan replies.
The woman huffs. “You’re the same age as my son. Now zip it.”
I snicker, and their dynamic gives my jealousy a swift death.
“Was that her?” Liza’s voice is quieter, like she’s asking Ethan.
“Tilda, put me out of my misery and say something.”
“Um, hi.”
Someone—Liza—claps their hands. “Oh, my Jesus. You’re real.”
“As real as the fly Ethan just ate.” I’m grinning so hard my cheeks ache.
“I didn’t eat the fly.” He sounds so put out that I dissolve into laughter.
“Oh, I like her.” Liza sounds like she’s beaming.
“I like her too.” Ethan says it easily. “When she’s not being a pest.”
“You like when I’m a pest.”
Ethan hums. “Maybe. Now, Liza, if you don’t mind, I’m going to take my call outside.”
“Oh, but?—”
“We have visitors.”
“Well, crap,” Liza huffs. “It was nice to hear your voice, Tilda. I hope to meet you soon.”
“Same to you,” I tell her honestly.
“Okay,” Ethan says a moment later. “I don’t even remember what we were talking about before.”
“Um… I don’t— Oh, you were talking about the gym. About cleaners?”
“That’s right. My part-timers would let me know if something was up, but I still like to check for myself.”
“Part-timers? Do you… work there?”
“I own it.”
Silence.
Crickets.
“You own… what?”
Are we back to talking about the cleaning crew? Does Ethan have a cleaning company?
