Chapter 3 #2
“Good, then how can I help you, oh queen?” I joked, using my nickname for her when I wanted to get on her good side. She fussed at me and pouted whenever she thought I was panicking.
“Now we’re talking,” she chuckled. “I just wanted to see if you could come look at something in my apartment when you get off, please?”
Frowning as I took the stairs, I asked, “I’m happy to, but wouldn’t the maintenance department there get to you quicker? What’s going on?”
She exhaled sharply, and I could almost see her waving her hands. “The last time I called them, they took a week to get back to me. And it’s nothing much. Just a dripping faucet that’s keeping me awake. Just stop by on your way home. I’ll make you something in case you’re hungry.”
Grammy knew I kept tools in my truck, so I answered, “No problem. I’ll see you in a few hours.
“Oh, wonderful, Mikey. Have I told you that you’re my favorite grandson?”
Shaking my head as I carefully set down everything on my desk, I said, “I’m your only grandson. See you soon.”
She hung up without a goodbye, making me laugh. Usually, I could hear her talking to herself about how to hang up the phone after we said our goodbyes, but this time, she must’ve hit the button before she got to sign off. She was something else.
At least there were no Facebook announcements today. I hoped Tom Cruise and his alien baby were doing well. I guess she would’ve told me if they weren’t.
When I arrived at Willowgrove Gardens after work, my phone lit up with Vicky’s name. My phone hadn’t been this busy in weeks, I thought with a chuckle. Smiling, I answered. “Hey there, stranger. What’s going on?”
“Mike, I’m so glad I got you. I’m in a mess, and I need your help,” she said, her voice sounding flustered.
“Are you alright?” I waited outside the front doors so I could finish the call before heading inside, wondering what the problem could be that she was calling me and not her husband and my friend, Miles.
“I’m fine, and I’m so sorry to ask, but no one is available. I’m over an hour away at a client’s house, and they’re taking forever to decide about the furniture. Miles is stuck in a meeting, and Leyla and Luke—
I interrupted her as she sounded as if she were about to cry. “Vicky, just tell me what you need me to do. I promise I’ll do whatever it is.”
She sighed in relief. “You’re the best, Mike.
Thank you so much. I was supposed to be at the airport at seven tonight, but there’s no way I can get there on time with the traffic.
She’s had such a long flight with a ridiculous delay in Atlanta, and she’s exhausted.
Should’ve worked in my favor, but I think I’m being held hostage here. ”
Pulling the phone from my ear, I checked the time. “Well, I’m at Grammy’s now. She needs me to fix a leaky faucet, but that won’t take but a few minutes. I can leave from there and be at the airport in plenty of time.”
“Gosh, I owe you so big. She’s going to be so happy she doesn’t have to wait for me to get there.”
“Text me the flight info. I’m your Uber driver tonight. No worries.” I started back to the entrance when I said, “Oh, and who am I picking up?”
She paused for a minute to answer someone. I waved to the receptionist as I headed to the apartment side of the building.
“Sorry, sorry. Ah, what did you ask? Oh yes! You’re picking up my best friend,” she said excitedly.
My eyebrows furrowed as I tried to remember who she was referring to. Niko’s wife, Leyla, and Leyla’s friend Sofia were her closest friends here in San Diego.
My feet stopped mid-step as a memory slid into my brain.
It couldn’t be.
Vicky had only one other best friend she talked about often. I spent a minute on a video call with the beautiful, curly-headed woman months ago. The one who took my breath away like no other woman ever had.
“Mike, you still there?” she asked, her voice muffled.
“Still here.” I held my breath.
“You’re picking up Renata, well, we call her Ren. She’s coming to stay for a month. Can you believe that? Gotta go, but thanks so much.”
“You’re welcome,” I mumbled as we hung up.
Renata Valenti. The Tuscan beauty who stole not only my breath but my mind that day. I had forced my brain to tuck away that memory out of pure self-preservation. And now she was going to be in San Diego for an entire month?
Apparently, this was her second trip to San Diego, having come for Vicky’s wedding, but that was before I had met any of them.
One month of hanging out with my friend group. Meals, beach days, game nights. I was both elated and terrified.
I groaned when I realized it was even worse than that. I had just offered myself up as tribute to be her Uber driver. Alone with the woman who had taken up more of my daydreams than I’d ever admit.
I was almost to Grammy’s door before realizing the constant heaviness in my chest had lifted slightly at the thought of Ren coming. I had no idea what that could possibly mean.
I was still rubbing away the warring thoughts in my head when I got to Grammy’s door and knocked.
Smiling as I heard her slow footsteps coming toward the other side, she called out, “Coming.”
When she opened the door, I immediately sensed something was off.
Not medically, but from the smell of fruity candles and the slow jazz playing, I knew I was about to be ambushed.
This wasn’t the first time she had invited me over under false pretenses, only to introduce me to the granddaughter of one of the residents.
“Grammy,” I growled. “No, please. Just no.”
Her head leaned back, and her eyes blinked a few times, taking on that innocent old lady look of “whatever do you mean?” like she was hiding her smile behind one of those fancy fans. “Mikey, come in, come in. I cooked your favorite.”
Rooted in my spot, I shook my head. “Nope. Not going in there. Whoever is waiting for me, you can tell them I’m not interested.”
She waved her hand at me. “You’re too suspicious, and I’ve got to say, it’s not a good look on you, dear. I’m not doing anything. I told you I was going to cook dinner for you.”
Peeping my head in, I didn’t see anyone. Glaring at her, I reluctantly walked inside, still keeping my guard up. The woman in question could be lurking in the bathroom for all I knew.
“You’re being ridiculous. Will you get in here?
You’re letting out all the AC,” she said, smacking the back of my arm.
It would’ve been my head, but she hadn’t been able to reach it since my growth spurt in tenth grade.
I gave up telling her that the AC was a central unit a long time ago so I hurried inside to appease her.
“Well, it’s not like I don’t appreciate the ambiance, but if that table is set for the two of us, it’s kind of creepy,” I said, making her scowl. I loved that we could both dish it out and take it.
“I can still put you over my knee, young man. You and your fresh mouth,” she said, huffing down into the sofa. I pushed my lips out, trying not to smile at the thought. At six foot two, I’d crush her five-foot frame, but that didn’t stop her from threatening me.
“Just admit it. This is a setup. Who is it this time? Gemma’s PT? Edna’s piano teacher, who makes art out of recycled cans? Oh, wait. Maybe another one of Doris’ cousin’s friends who collects stuffed squirrels doing human things?”
We both shuddered. I mean, they were real squirrels. I didn’t know if the taxidermist put them in the little clothes or if she did. There was even a squirrel reading a newspaper on the toilet. It had glasses on, for goodness sake.
“No,” she grumbled. “If you must know, it’s Robert Haynes’ granddaughter. She’s a lovely girl. He has tons of photos of her in his place. She’s a singer.” She said the last part with such glee as if that was going to change my mind. For all I knew, she was a lovely singing squirrel collector.
I frowned. “Wait, the guy Gemma gave food poisoning to? No way.”
She threw her hands in the air. “Mikey, I’m not going to live forever. I keep telling you this. I want to see you madly in love and married. Settled down before I die.”
“Grammy, you’ve got to stop talking about dying,” I said, my voice rising. She knew it upset me, but I also understood how passionately she felt about this subject. She knew firsthand how lonely I was growing up as an only child, and that she was the only other family I truly had.
Her tired eyes brimmed with tears, and my heart sank. I could never bear to see her cry.
“Please don’t cry. You know what that does to me,” I said, sitting next to her and grabbing her hands.
“I don’t mean to be so emotional. It’s just. I love you so much. I don’t want you to be alone,” she said through a sob. My chest was tight, as was my throat. I didn’t know how to give her what she wanted because I really didn’t think I had what it took to be a husband.
“Don’t cry. It’s going to be fine. God has that perfect woman for me.” I pulled her to my side, trying to appease her.
She nodded and took a breath. “I know He does. He promised to answer my prayer for you. I just thought I could help Him out a little bit.” She began to cry softly again, and at that moment, I would have done anything to make her stop.
A crazy thought came to me, and I tried to push it away. But as I held the person who I loved more than anyone in my life, words came out before I could stop them.
“He already has. Or I think so anyway,” I said, my voice shaking.
What are you doing? Have you lost your mind? Retreat!
She gasped and pulled back, looking up into my eyes with a hopeful expression. The same eyes that watched me grow up—always supporting, always encouraging. The same hands that held me when I was afraid or cheered my achievements. Yes, I would do anything to make her happy, even this.
“He has? Mikey, why didn’t you tell me? When? Who? What’s her name?” she asked excitedly.
Before my brain could catch up to my mouth, I swallowed hard. “Renata. Her name is Renata.”