“How was the run, my dear?” Grace asks, not bothering with formalities. She’s known me since I was a baby and doesn’t bother with titles. Honestly, she doesn’t really speak to the rest of the family, apart from the odd nod. Not that I blame her.
“Good.” I cough again and force a deep sigh. “My lungs are polluted from the city I think.”
“This is a city.” She laughs and takes the glass as I finish, handing me a post-run protein smoothie she has waiting.
“It’s different. Canada has so few people. The city here is like a nature preserve in comparison.” I chuckle and sip the smoothie from the rubber straw Grace insists on buying. She’s got that West Coast recycling program down pat.
“Are you all right?” She rests against the railing and folds her arms. I’ve been home for three hours and she already sees it. “Is it the season ending badly with the team playing so poorly that has you distracted?”
“No.” I scowl, not sure how to explain the Jenny thing.
“Interesting.” Her hawk eyes remain on me, waiting for the answer.
“It’s this girl—woman—Jenny. Actually, you’ve heard me talk about her before.” I laugh and shake my head. “Jennifer Snowdon from the women’s hockey team. Won the gold for Canada at the last two Olympics.”
“I don’t recall her,” Grace says slowly, unimpressed by gold medals since she has two herself for winning the Culinary Olympics.
“We met at Sami’s wedding and we didn’t get along at all in the beginning.” I smile recalling her shouting at me. “But then something changed. And now I can’t stop thinking about her. But it’s bad timing for her so she’s not as invested as I seem to be, and I don’t know what to do about it.”
“She’s using you for a physical relationship as you have done to countless other girls?” She lifts an eyebrow. “God is punishing you, Lori, for being such a bad boy.” She laughs wickedly and goes back into the house.
“No, legit there’s a connection. I know she feels it too.” I follow her inside instead of stretching which I’ll regret later. “We have something, but we haven’t talked much really.”
“You’re a beautiful boy, very handsome and sweet and fit.” It sounds nice but with her accent and the coldness of her demeanor, there’s definitely something bad at the end of this. A “but.” “All girls have an attraction to that, my dear dumb boy. But that doesn’t mean there are feelings attached to it. Does this girl—woman—Jenny, know your heart? I don’t think so. You don’t even know your own heart.”
She starts working as I sit at the counter, my usual hangout when I was a kid to be her recipe tester and listen to her lecture me.
“I remember when you were a boy. You told me you would never marry because a wife was the last thing a man should check off his list of things to do. It was your grandfather speaking, but you were adamant you’d be single your whole life.”
Her words slice into me, as always, as I wait for the point. It will be a doozy, I can already tell.
Her sharp stare flickers to the far side of the room where the dining room overlooks the city and harbor. “No doubt growing up amongst such people, you have no faith in love. You have no belief that relationships work and are worth your time and effort.”
“That’s fair,” I admit hesitantly before taking another long drink, contemplating her words.
“And now ten years later, you have been a coward when it comes to love. Which has always baffled me, as I’ve never seen you be a coward in any single area of your life, apart from that. You see girls for one night and never again. You have your foolish rules.” She stops mixing the bowl in front of her. “Which leads me to believe you don’t understand your own heart. You are still just a boy spouting his bitter grandfather’s words.”
“Ouch.”
“Tough love is good for you. Time to—how does your grandfather say that?” She pauses. “Pop your testicles out and stop fooling around. You’re not a kid anymore, you’re a man now. And it’s time to start acting like one. When I was twenty-two, I was married, apprenticing under the best chef in all of France, and sending all my money home to take care of my dying mother and help my father and my husband support our families.”
“I know, I know, you walked uphill both ways to school,” I tease her, hoping we can stop the soul-shredding serious talk.
She picks up and points her glistening chef’s knife at me. “You little shit, I did walk uphill both ways.”
“Grace, I’m serious. I’ve broken all my rules for her. And you met Frederick when you were nineteen. You said you knew he was the one the moment you met. So don’t talk to me about crazy kids making weird love choices.” I point back but with a finger. She’s the only one allowed on the business side of the counter where the weapons are.
“Yes, but I didn’t have your privilege and ridiculousness.” She goes for the low blows again. “I knew a gentle heart and kind eyes were more important than breeding and pocketbooks. Your head is so full of yourself and all the nonsense of this world, there is no room for loving another person. If this Jenny has a good heart and kind eyes, then stop trying to close those eyes with your kisses and distractions. You get to know her and lower your guard. You win her over with everything but the physical, then you come and darken my doorway with your stories of connections and breaking rules.” She rolls her eyes and I hate that she has a point.
She always has a lot of points.
“And stop chasing this girl if you have no intention of giving the relationship a chance. She isn’t a box to
