Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
Sophie
“I got you something,” my mother says, pointing to the box on the table.
It’s something she does often. With her and my father traveling several times a year, she is always surprising me with gifts from around the world.
“How was Madrid?”
“Beautiful.” Her smile says it all.
My father owns a very successful plumbing company with three locations.
He’s spent the better part of his life building it and creating a reliable company many call on.
My parents are older than most of the parents of my friends.
I was an oops, but a gift they always say.
My mother was in her early forties when she found out she was pregnant.
They never thought they would have children.
They deserve to travel, they deserve to see the world. And I’ll admit I love the things they bring back for me. I have a piece of the world from every trip they’ve taken and I cherish each one.
Opening the box I move aside the tissue paper and see the gorgeous hand-painted pattern.
“It’s a handcrafted container. I thought it would be perfect to set on your dresser or bathroom vanity. You could put your jewelry in it while showering or when you are ready for bed.”
I am in awe as I lift it and take in all the colors that pop against the white ceramic background.
“It’s perfect,” I tell her.
“I have one too, but you know me, I chose the one with the birds on it,” she says with a wink, hugging me from the side.
“So sit down, tell me how things have been going. What’s new?”
I nibble nervously on my lip, instantly thinking she has to know. But there is no way, is there?
“Nothing’s new really.” The lie feels sour. I keep looking at the pretty colors, doing my best to avoid eye contact with the woman that can always see right through me.
The minute I hear the sound of my gran’s voice, I am thankful for her unpredictable outburst.
“Damn, it’s hot out there,” she hollers, out coming in the back door. “Forget about trying to fry an egg on the Alabama sidewalk, with this kind of heat, those eggs are probably hard-boiled when the chickens are laying ‘em.”
“Hey, Lulu,” I say when she leans in to kiss my cheek. She is barely five feet, a tiny little thing with a whole lot of attitude. She has always been Lulu to me.
She is knocking on the door of ninety years old and refuses to slow down. I love her to death. The complete opposite of my mother she is wild, says whatever is on her mind, and you either love her or hate her, she couldn't care less.
“Morning, sweetheart,” she offers as she passes and takes a seat at the table.
My parents bought a small two-bedroom house in Montgomery when they decided to start traveling.
Mainly it’s for Lulu to stay in. It’s close to all the cafes, right around the corner from the church they all go to, and within a five-minute drive to the hospital.
All on one level, it’s easy for Gran to get around since she refuses to be set out to pasture as she puts it.
Her independence is the number one thing and if you tried to take that away from her, you may not come out unscathed.
She can be stubborn and for a tiny woman she is mighty.
“It’s warm huh?” I say, hoping that my mother has forgotten all about asking me what's new.
“Warm, honey,” she lets out a whisper that makes me smile.
“You know it’s summer when you stand up and the chair comes with you.
Stuck to my ass like glue, I tell you.” I giggle and cover my mouth.
“Like my sweat is the paste.” She rolls her eyes and I see it right then.
The similarities all the girls say I have with my Lulu.
She is so much fun. The kind of gran that is like an older best friend with years and years of life experience under her belt. She has a story for everything and no matter what you can always tell her straight. No need to filter or sugarcoat anything.
The three of us sit down, Mom making all of us a cool glass of lemonade and getting lost in Mom’s travel updates and Gran’s funny additions to the story.
Before leaving, my mother gets a phone call and excuses herself as I continue my goodbyes with Lulu. Just as I am pulling back from a hug she surprises me.
“You don’t think fake dating a handsome fella like Finn Armstrong is only setting yourself up for punishment?”
I say nothing, only stare at her with my lips slightly parted.
“Oh honey, Lulu knows everything,” she reminds me and instantly I think of all the times I thought I was being so sneaky and there she was, waiting, knowing all the details before I even walked back in the door.
“I uh,” I stumble and she laughs.
“You uh.” She nudges my side with her finger. “Didn’t think things through before you committed to this crazy plan,” she adds. “Finn is a different kind of man than the ones you’ve wasted your time on in the past.”
“Don’t I know it!” I confess, knowing there is truly no way for me to attempt to deny it.
“He’s not a boy, sweetheart. He’s the kind of man a smart girl knows to keep around,” she adds with a tap to the tip of my nose before turning around and walking away. Leaving me staring after her with a knot in the pit of my stomach.
Like I said from the start this isn’t a good idea. It’s going to blow up in my face, I just know it is.