Even going through boxes of dead birds.
*
Chapter Twenty
Imogen
“You know,” I giggled. “I never thought I would be eating in the cafeteria of an assisted living with you, but here we are.”
“Only the best for my girl.” Mace winked and popped a grape in his mouth. “Maybe next week we can check out the early bird special at the nursing home in Jackson,” he suggested.
I fanned my face with my hand and swooned. “You know the way to a girl’s heart.”
“Only the best pudding for you.”
“There you two are.” Janet gingerly walked up to our table, and a CNA set her tray on the table. “Mind if I eat with you?” She sat down before either of us could reply.
“Uh, hello, Janet. How is your day going so far?” Mace asked.
“Still alive. I watched my shows this morning and hoped I would catch you two at lunch.” She grabbed her fork and tried to stab a grape on her tray. The fork missed, and it rocketed off her plate.
Mace ducked, and it hit the woman behind him. “Whoa there,” he chuckled.
“Slippery bitches,” Janet mumbled.
I choked on my milk and pounded my chest. “Grandma,” I wheezed.
“I can call the grapes bitches, Imogen. Don’t scold me.” She leaned to the side to see who the grape hit. “Sorry, Delores. The grapes are greased today.”
The woman didn’t turn around, and the grape was in her hair.
“Delores,” Grandma hollered. “Turn up yourBeltone.” She stomped her foot on the floor, but Delores didn’t turn.
Mace covered his mouth with his hand and looked to the side.
“It’s fine, grandma,” I called. “One of the nurses will get it.” Or Delores would have a grape in her hair until she went to bed tonight. Either way, not my problem because I was two seconds away from losing it and laughing my ass off.
Mace was one second away from losing it.
Who knew hanging out in the cafeteria of an assisted living would be so fun?
“So, did you find what you were looking for yet?” she asked. Apparently, Delores and her grape were forgotten.
“Uh, not yet. We’ve only managed to get through a quarter of the boxes you have in there.”
Grandma hmphed. “It should be in there, and if it’s not, it’s in god’s hands.”
That wasn’t entirely encouraging. I wasn’t really wanting to put Mace’s future completely in god’s hands. I would like to have a hand in it, too. “Did you have a chance to think about where it might be?” I asked.
“Bird box?” she asked.
Mace cleared his throat and stood. “I’m just going to run to the bathroom for a second.” His face was red, and he was trying not to laugh. He took off toward the bathroom and turned the heads of everyone he passed.
“Him being here has got people talking.” Grandma wiggled her eyebrows. “They think I’m a bit of a badass since my granddaughter is with a biker.”
“I’m not with a biker,” I insisted.
She hitched her fork in the direction Mace had gone. “Are you telling me that man is not yours? He looks at you like you hung the moon and stars, child. He is completely and utterly in love with you.”