Page 14 of My Always One

“Oh my,” I say, “I see it now.”

“What?”

“You. You’re an old maid at twenty-two.”

She reaches for her face, palming her cheeks. “Are my wrinkles showing?” Her expression turns. “What about you? Amy really seemed—”

“Clingy,” I offer, interrupting her.

“Oh, come on. You talked about her for nearly three months.”

I shake my head. “I think it’s a serious medical condition.” I scratch my neck. “I developed a rash.”

Sami’s hand goes up. “Oh, no stories about STDs.”

I can’t help but laugh. “No. I told you I keep it wrapped. I think that I’m allergic to commitment. She started talking about moving to Grand Rapids and getting an apartment together.” I scratch my arms. “See, even talking about it is making me itch.”

“You’re hopeless.”

“But you’re not. Give it time.”

For the next few hours, hometown friends and cousins join us, and all the while, Sami smiles and talks, knowing everyone. Hell, we all grew up together. It’s like old home week until it’s time for the ceremony celebrating my grandpa’s life.

As we walk into the main room, Sami looks around. I know she’s looking for her parents. “Hey,” I say as I reach for her hand and lower my voice. “I’m not being a pussy.”

“Never.”

“Sit with me.”

“What about your family?”

“Sit with all of us. I promise they won’t mind.”

And she does.

I’m not an emotional guy, and I don’t do feelings, but even I admit to loving my grandpa. Saying goodbye is one of those things that you know will come but always happens too soon. It’s nice having Sami with me, literally holding my hand.

Later, as we gather in the basement of the church, I see the long buffet of food and remember what Grandma said. I whisper to Sami, “Grandpa did love a good pitch-in.”

“Then I say we eat two plates each, just for him.”

A smile breaks through my sadness as she reaches for two plates. Hell, half the women I date won’t eat a full meal in front of me or any other guy, yet here’s Sami, balancing two plates while she fills them with homemade noodles, real mashed potatoes, and freshly canned green beans. “I’ll eat brussels sprouts tomorrow,” she says as she covers her noodles and potatoes with gravy.

I scan her slim frame. “I don’t think you need to worry, and you don’t like brussels sprouts.”

“Yeah, but I’ll have a desk job soon. I need to eat better. I’m going to gain weight and get old.”

“Bonus, extra weight will hide your wrinkles.”

She grins. “If I wasn’t holding two plates, I’d hit you.”

“You’re always so violent.”

“Here take this,” she says as she hands me one of her plates.

As soon as I do, she punches my arm. I barely feel it, but it doesn’t stop my comeback. “Violent and bossy.”

Sami

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