No, dude, she doesn’t want you at her place.
To fucking bad.
“What’s her name?” Grandma asks, pulling my thoughts back as she drops two sugar cubes into her mug and stirs it.
My head lifts, the ridiculous smile on my face dissolving faster than her sugar. “What?”
Grandma takes a sip of coffee and looks at me over the rim. I grab a cookie and practically shove the whole thing into my mouth so I don’t have to talk, but she’s a patient woman. She’ll wait until I eat the whole container and then resume her questioning.
“Are you seeing someone, Christian?” Mom asks, a hopeful look in her eyes as I hold the container of cookies to her. She’s always pushing for me to get serious. I guess my single, play the field status doesn’t look good to her.
“Uh, no.” I give a fast shake of my head and set the container down when she holds her hand up, palm out. “Too busy with football and studying.”
Mom adjusts the silk scarf around her neck. “It’s not right, Christian. You should be thinking about your future wife and children at this point in your life.”
I almost choke on my cookie. Why the hell would she care? She trapped my father, for Christ’s sake. Does she think she’s going to be a better grandparent than she was a parent? Grandma makes a scoffing sound, and Mom casts her a quick glance. Like I said, Grandma never really was a fan of my mother, but she’s always been good to me.
“I am thinking about my future, Mom.” I should have joined Linc for that beer. But this conversation would have happened sooner or later, so I might as well get it out of the way now.
I exhale and go for another cookie, and brace myself. “Many of your friends are engaged now, Christian. Just last week Wanda told me that Megan was planning her spring wedding.”
“Oh yeah, good for Megan. Not everyone has to get engaged straight out of college. It’s not a crime to stay single.”
Ignoring me she continues. “Megan plans to bring her fiancé to the Christmas party. Perhaps she has a few single friends. I’ll ask her mother.”
“Please don’t.” Jesus, I hate the annual Christmas party. Hate Mom trying to set me up with one of her friends’ daughters. AKA the mean girls from my high school years, and I’m not interested in getting fixed up or hooking up with any of them.
“I ran into Chelsea the other day,” Mom continues. “She’s at Princeton, doing a literature degree. She’s a lovely girl, Christian.”
“Leave the boy alone,” Grandma says, and Mom stiffens. “He’ll get married when he’s ready and not a day before.” There’s a warning in Grandma’s voice and my mother’s face pales in response.
“More coffee?” Mom asks and stands.
I take a huge sip of mine. “I’m good.” My phone pings and my heart leaps, hoping it’s Maize. I leave it for now, because both Mom and Grandma hate phones at the table and I’d probably start smiling like the village idiot again. Grandma already suspects something as it is.
“Maybe you should get that,” Grandma says, taking me by surprise. My gaze flies to hers, but her face is expressionless, and I grin at her. She’s far too wise for any of us.
I tug my phone from my pocket, and it’s a message from Linc letting me know he gathered up some of the guys and they were all headed out to shoot some pool. I’m not sure why, but I have a feeling something is up with him. I’ve been so caught up in myself, I’ve been a shitty friend. “It’s Linc.”
“How is he?” Mom asks. “I do hope he’s coming to the party this year. He always has an open invitation, but never comes.”
“He’s busy with his own family.” I reach for another cookie, and turn the conversation around, asking Mom about her Thanksgiving weekend, and Grandma about all her clubs. Soon enough, it’s time for Grandma to head back home, and even though she’s in her late sixties, she’s still driving and still going strong.
I walk her to her car and give her a big hug, promising I’ll visit. She drives off and I check the time. My guess is the guys are still at the pub, and dammit I could use a drink or two right about now. I hurry back in the house, and Mom is sitting at the table, her day planner out.
“I’m going to head out and meet the guys.” I put my hands in my pockets. “Shoot some pool.”
She smiles up at me. “You aren’t staying for dinner?”
“No, I’ll grab something when I’m out.” When she looks like she’s going to protest, I add, “You’re right. I should catch up with the old crew.” Her smile widens, because she thinks the old crew means some of the girls she’s interested in setting me up with. It’s all for show with her, though. It doesn’t look good at the country club that her son is still playing the field, so to speak. I head to the cupboard, and take out a small plastic bag.
Mom’s eyes narrow, confusion all over her face, as I pack up a few cookies. “What on earth are you doing, Christian?”
“You know how much Linc loves Grandma’s cookies,” I fib, and honestly I don’t even know what I’m doing. My thoughts are so consumed with Maize it has me fucked up and acting out of character. My mother, who knows so little about me, is even picking up on my strange behavior. “I’ll catch up with you later. We’ll play some games, or maybe a
