Page 39 of Craving Theodora
“Groceries,” I reminded him.
“I’ll get my nightstand,” Jesse announced.
I grabbed as many bags as I could carry from the back seat and followed Finn to the front door, hoping that Curtis was inside because I didn’t have a key. When the door opened, I added asking for one to my mental checklist.
“Hey, baby,” Curtis greeted, making me roll my eyes. “Are there more groceries?”
“Backseat,” I replied as I passed him.
“Cool.”
I carried the bags into the kitchen and came to an abrupt stop when I noticed the older man seated at the table. He was wearing jeans, a plain white T-shirt, and a tattered but well-loved leather cut with patches on the breast. He got to his feet as I set the grocery bags on the counter, his salt-and-pepper bearded chin tipping my way.
“You look like your mother,” he said, his lips tipping up at the corners.
I recognized that gravelly voice.
“Grease?”
“How you doin’, Theodora?” he asked gently, his smile widening.
“Jesus, you got old.”
He threw his head back as he laughed, the sound coming from deep in his belly. He was still grinning when he stopped.
“You’re still as bratty as you ever were.”
“Guilty,” I confessed.
It was weird, seeing him after all these years. I hadn’t thought about him in so long, not until he’d reached out, but all of a sudden it felt like no time had passed at all. Like, I’d just seen him sitting outside our trailer, shooting the shit with my pop, each of them holding a bottle of bourbon.
“Well, come over here,” he said gruffly, walking toward me. “Give this old guy a hug.”
I grinned as I met him, wrapping my arms around his waist.
He smelled the same as when he used to catch me by the arm as I went running past their chairs, teasingly lifting me by the waist like he was going to throw me into the small fire at their feet while I squealed.
Jesus. The memories hit me like a semi. They weren’t vague at all. Suddenly, it was like I could remember every one. Grease, roaring up on his Harley. His wife, Callie, sitting behind me on the porch steps, her fingers gentle as she braided my hair so it would stop falling into my eyes. My dad and Grease playfully wrestling around in the front yard, shoving at each other’s heads as they laughed. My little brother, Coop, jumping onto Grease’s back with a yell, his short arms barely able to circle Grease’s neck as he tried to put him in a headlock.
I cleared my throat and pulled away as Jesse, Finn, and Curt came in, carrying the rest of the groceries.
“Finn only carried in one bag,” Jess complained.
“I had to pee!” Finn defended himself. His eyes came to me. “Curt said I could do it in theyard!”
“Please tell me it was the backyard,” I said as Grease laughed.
“He made him go around the house,” Jesse reassured me.
“Go wash your hands,” I ordered. “Then come back so I can introduce you.”
Finn went running, and I turned, putting my arm around Jesse’s shoulder.
“Jess, this is Grease. He was one of Papa’s oldest friends.”
“Hey, nice to meet you,” Jesse said, extending their hand.
“You too, sweetheart,” Grease said softly, his eyes looking them over.
