Chapter 26 – Gavin
26
Granny D Approved
Gavin
“FUCK.” I TIP my head back, taking a deep breath before returning my attention to the project in my hands. “This shit was not made for someone my size.”
Cilantro tilts her head, yellow eyes wide as she watches me struggle, and offers a meow of commiseration. Or maybe she’s trying to tell me to give up so she can have her wicked way with the yarn I’m fighting.
“Not happening.” I scoot the bundle closer, just in case she doesn’t want to take no for an answer. “This isn’t for you.”
It may not be for anyone if I can’t figure out how in the hell to make more than just the repeating single loop the chick on YouTube calls a chain stitch.
Again, I attempt to turn and dig into the second row, pausing every two seconds to restart the video tutorial, making sure I’m following the instructions correctly. But again, the stitches end up too tight, the circle of yarn strangling the metal hook that’s so small I struggle to maneuver it.
“For the love of—” I toss the barely started project onto the couch cushion beside me, abandoning it for the hundredth time. “There has to be an easier way.” I don’t know what sort of magic was in Granny D’s old lady hands, but it’s clearly not in mine.
Leaning forward, I focus on my laptop. After opening a new search window, I type in a prompt.
Easiest way to make a scarf
All the Google selected options populate the screen in front of me and I scroll, bypassing the sewing tutorials in search of a new yarn-based alternative. I saw the way Alexis responded to the cashmere scarf I bought her, so I’m not giving up on that part of this whole endeavor.
My gaze snags on a thumbnail and I click the link so I can inspect it better. What pops up might be the solution to my problem. Instead of using a teeny tiny hook to freestyle loop the yarn together, this new method requires some sort of plastic apparatus with pegs sticking up off it. The process appears to simply be winding the yarn around the pegs and then using a hook to pull one over the other. I deflate a little when I see a hook is still required, but it doesn’t look like I’ll have to gymnastic the mother fucker in all sorts of ways. Just one single maneuver.
I think I can do that.
I order the plastic thing and add on expedited shipping. Once that’s handled, I pack up the cashmere yarn I spent an hour in a specialty fiber shop selecting. I didn’t want to give Alexis another red and white scarf, so I ended up choosing the crimson and gray of the Swamp Cat branding. It’s still a little similar to the others, but hopefully different enough.
Plus, I really fucking like the thought of Alexis in the stands wearing a scarf I made her, watching me do what I do best.
Because crocheting is certainly not what I do best.
Once I know the expensive yarn is hidden safely away from Cilantro, I go to check on the iguana. I wasn’t able to get a perfect setup today, but thanks to Al’s boss, I found a temporary enclosure and ordered a custom unit that should be ready in a couple of weeks.
I set up the wood and wire space in the corner of the spare bedroom where Cilantro’s litter box is. It made the most sense to keep all the pet shit in one space.
And I’m pretty certain the iguana is now my pet.
The lizard looks happy enough, basking in the glow of its new heat lamp. I’m checking the temperature to make sure it’s within the recommended span when my cell phone buzzes in my pocket. After less than one day, I’ve already got a fucking trained response to the vibration, and my stomach clenches in anticipation.
Alexis and I have been messaging each other all afternoon. I worried she would get sick of the constant communication, but she’s reached out to me as much as I’ve reached out to her, and it has my brain thinking all sorts of things. Good things.
And also bad.
Swiping across the screen, I see the three words I’ve been waiting for.
On my way.
I give the iguana a last look. “It’s show time.”
It’s been a busy day, and I think all my effort is about to pay off. At least I hope it is.
Going into the kitchen, I flip on the oven light, checking the contents before going to the fridge. After pulling out the first of many surprises I have for Alexis, I go to work setting everything up. My heart races faster and faster, driven by anticipation, excitement, and a little fear. Fear that I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.
Fear that this is all going to be too much.
Fear that maybe—as much as I don’t want to consider it—my dad will be right. Maybe I am just setting myself up to have my heart broken again.
I scrub one hand over my face, forcing the thought away. That’s not how Alexis is. She would never hurt me the way my dad hurt my mom, or even the way my high school girlfriend did me.
But Alexis is only half the equation. And I’m not sure my half is as trustworthy as hers. I don’t know how I’m going to handle being close to her. Don’t know if I’ll be able to keep the jealous, possessive side of me in check.
Thankfully, a light knock stops my spiraling thoughts. I practically run to the door. There’s no sense hiding my eagerness to see her. There’s going to be no missing it as soon as she comes inside, might as well put it out there from the beginning.
My heart nearly stutters to a stop when I see her on my doorstep. I expected her to be all decked out like she usually is, but instead Al is wearing a pair of flannel pants and a hoodie. Her face is makeup free and her blonde hair is pulled up into a messy bun at the top of her head. She looks fucking fantastic.
Even better, she looks like she’s planning to sleep over.
“Hey.” Words fail me. Seeing Alexis here—like this—eases a little of the worry I’ve been carrying about my plans for our evening.
She gives me a soft smile. “Hey.”
Even though we’ve been communicating all day, this moment feels a little awkward. Different. Because now things are different. And it’s about to get a whole lot worse.
I step back, holding the door wide. “How was your girls’ night?”
Alexis seems to relax a little at the question. “It was actually really good. My friends loved Maddie and it seemed like she liked them.” Her eyes drift to my kitchen. “Are you making food?”
I tip my head in a nod, uncertainty gnawing at my excitement. “I am.”
She lets out a long breath, shoulders relaxing even more as her overnight bag slides down one arm. “Thank God. I didn’t come close to ordering enough sushi, and I’m starving.”
“I’m pretty sure there’s no such thing as enough sushi.” I take her bag, setting it at the end of the long island separating the main living area from the kitchen. “I can eat my body weight in that shit and still be hungry an hour later.”
Alexis looks me up and down, gaze lingering on my chest and shoulders before coming back to my face. “That’s a lot of sushi.”
“It is, and I’m positive you didn’t come close to eating that much, so come sit down before you pass out from starvation.” I press one palm against the small of her back, directing Alexis to one of the counter-height stools I’ve never used before since I usually eat on the couch in front of the television.
Alexis slides onto the seat, her gaze immediately falling to the plate I pulled from the refrigerator. Her brows pinch together as she reaches out to hook a finger at the rim, pulling it close. “Is this…” She doesn’t finish and I feel like that’s a bad sign.
“Granny D’s cheese ball.” I pass her a butter knife. “I don’t have one of those fancy spreaders like she did, but I think this will work.”
Alexis stares at the appetizer, her pretty face still tight with confusion. “How do you know how to make this?”
“Like I said, your grandma is who taught me how to cook.” I round the island on my way to the oven. After grabbing a couple hot mitts, I start pulling out our dinner. “And she told me all her secrets.” I settle the dish of scalloped potatoes onto the counter before going back to retrieve the meatloaf. Once it’s in place, I peel the mitts away, take a deep breath, and lift my eyes to Al’s face, bracing for her reaction.
Her eyes move from the meatloaf, to the potatoes, to the cheeseball and crackers, before finally coming my way. “You made all this?”
Her tone gives nothing away. Doesn’t hint at whether she’s happy or I’ve come on too strong.
“I just thought since you fed me last night, it was only right that I feed you tonight. And I know you loved your grandma, so...” I run out of shit to say. Out of explanation to give. All I can do is wait and hope I haven’t fucked up already.
Alexis stares at me a second before once again looking over the meal I made. Silently, she slides off the stool and rounds the island, stopping at my side. For a few more torturously long seconds, she stares at the meatloaf and potatoes.
Then she jumps at me, arms locking around my neck as she squeezes tight, her face buried in my neck. “This is amazing.” It’s not until she sniffs, her breath hitching, that it registers that Al’s crying.
“No, no, no, no.” I wrap my arms around her, hugging tight. “Don’t cry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just thought you might like eating some of Granny D’s favorite recipes.”
Alexis tips her head back, watery eyes moving over mine.
Something just changed. I see it in the way she’s looking at me. It’s like she’s seeing too much, and it has me gently setting Alexis on her feet before turning away, needing some space from whatever just happened between us.
“I have something else for you.” I’m working on autopilot, going through the motions of what I had planned, unable to think of anything besides the way she just looked at me. “It’s what I wanted to show you last night.”
I open a drawer and pull out one of my most prized possessions. I’ve carried this thing with me for over a decade, but I think Alexis needs it more than I do.
Turning to face her, I pull in as much air as I can manage and hold the item out between us.
“What’s that?” Her voice is barely a whisper.
“Granny D wasn’t confident in my ability to remember all the shit she taught me, so she made me a little book with all her recipes in it.” I move it closer to Alexis. “I think you should have it.”
For a second, I think I’ve fucked up again. Gone too far. Done too much.
But then Al takes it, her delicate, tiny fingers reverently sliding over each page as she silently flips through the small, handwritten notebook.
“I spilled some stuff on a few of the pages.” I would have been more careful with it if I’d known one day I’d be giving it to Alexis. I would have kept it fucking pristine. “I always wiped it off but you can still tell.”
“I can’t believe she gave this to you.” She says it so softly I barely hear it. “She didn’t even give my mom her recipes.”
My chest goes tight. I’ve treasured the hell out of that book, but hearing I’m the only person she gave those to?
“I didn’t know that.” My head drops, dragged down by guilt. “I would have given it to you sooner if—”
“Shut up.” Al’s demand is sharp.
Sharp enough to snap my head up and bring my eyes to her face. “What?”
“I said stop talking.” She carefully slides the notebook onto the counter and takes a step toward me. Her lips are pressed into a thin line, as she lifts her chin, coming closer until the full swell of her tits presses against my stomach. “Get your dick in me.” Her nostrils flare as pink races across her cheeks. “Now.”