Page 25 of Grumpy

Kelly approached the door, closing the front of her mint green robe tighter at her breasts. Her cobalt eyes widened as they fixed on Grumpy. “What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”

Grumpy felt someone walk up behind him and then Ruth let out a loud, dismissive snort. “He brought the reshaydim. Good. I’ll heat up the soup.” She gave Grumpy another once over. “Nu?”

Grumpy had no idea half of what this woman said, but from her expression, it was a clear invite into her house.

“Mom! Your walker!” Kelly shouted after her mother as the woman beelined for another room, presumably the kitchen. Kelly’s eyes jumped from Grumpy and Margery at the door to her mother’s back several times before she hastily said, “Oh, just come in.” Then she chased after Ruth with the silver walker like she was wielding a javelin.

Grumpy stepped back and waved his mother through the door.

* * *

Kelly slammed the aluminum walker down on the faded yellow linoleum floor of their kitchen. “Mom,” she scolded. “You know you’re not supposed to be walking without this.”

“Feh!” her mother waved off Kelly’s concern. “We have guests.”

“Grumpy and his mom aren’t guests,” Kelly corrected. And then realized, “I don’t know what they are, but they’re, you know…or he is…” Kelly had no idea what it was she was trying to say, and from the knowing look her mom was giving her, she damn well knew that Kelly wanted to say “family” but felt it was too soon.

Kelly just held up her hands in surrender, not liking how well her mom could read her mind. “Fine. Make your soup. Let me go figure out what is going on—and do not carry that hot soup out on your own. If you insist on them eating, we’ll eat in here.”

Despite marrying an Irish Catholic man, Ruth kept to her Jewish roots and traditions. Including making chicken soup every Sunday morning. If Grumpy thought Kelly used a lot of Yiddish words and expressions, he was about to have his eyes—or eye—opened.

Kelly walked back out to the entryway of the house to find Margery not-so-quietly whispering to Grumpy demands to know why they were here. From the way she turned her nose up at the Mezuzah on the doorframe leading into the living room, the woman was about to have a rude awakening about entering a Jewish home.

Another man stood with Grumpy. About Grumpy’s height of six-two with pitch black hair, he looked vaguely familiar. Having a memory for faces, Kelly found it odd that she couldn’t place where she knew him from. Likely the diner, but Kelly made a point to get to know people once they started to become regulars.

Grumpy threw a thumb over his shoulder. “Grimm.”

Grimm nodded to her once, but said nothing.

“Any relation?” Kelly asked, noting the similar way the two men held themselves and their stubborn silence.

“He works for Keys,” Grumpy said, like that explained the mysteries of the universe.

Kelly had been surprised how open Grumpy had been with her when it was just the two of them earlier that day. Not exactly talkative, but he offered more of himself than she felt he ever had before. Yet now with other people around, he returned to his short, blunt answers that felt like nails to a chalkboard.

Margery put her hands on her hips. “Is that anyway to answer a door, young lady? Where is your modesty?”

Kelly glanced down at her bathrobe and then caught her reflection in the mirror her mother kept by the front door. Fuck! She was still wearing her mask! Once a week, her mom and her had a mini spa night. They did each other’s nails, worked on each other’s hair, and did an exfoliating mask. It kept the costs down of going to a salon beyond standard haircuts and Kelly’s recent dying the gray out of her hair, and it was good exercise for her mom to work on her dexterity.

It had been a long time since she’d been face to face with Margery. And after her afternoon spent with Grumpy and the words they’d shared, Kelly was able to fully acknowledge how spiteful and mean this woman was. Loving her son was not a good enough excuse for the things she’d said and done to Kelly during those first two weeks Grumpy had been in the hospital. Beyond that, Kelly was truly able to admit that she’d allowed Margery’s words to infest her own fears about Grumpy and Kelly’s future.

Because they would have a future. Whether this woman liked it or not.

“Well, this is what you get, Margery, when you show up unannounced on my night off,” Kelly answered. She walked up to Grumpy and kissed him gently on the lips. His expression said he approved of her response to his mother’s snipe. “Give me a minute to get dressed and washed up. Kitchen’s through that door.”

He nodded once. “Take your time.”

Kelly lowered her voice even more. “Keep an eye on my mom?”

At another bob of his head, Kelly hurried off to get herself somewhat presentable. Honestly, the last thing she wanted was to put a bra and pants back on. Since her hair mask was due to come out soon anyway, Kelly jumped in the shower quickly to scrub off her face mask, too. Then she threw on a pair of black pajama pants with white flowers. They were loose enough and semi-styled enough that they could pass as regular pants. Margery was not important enough in her book to make Kelly put a bra back on at this time of night, so she slipped on a camisole with a kimono-style wrap to cover her shoulders. There was still a “he works for Keys” man downstairs that Kelly had no intention of flashing her nipples at.

Her mom had a bowl of soup in front of everyone by the time Kelly made it back down to the kitchen. Margery looked into the dish like there might be rat poison dissolving in the broth. Kelly took the open seat near Grumpy. Grimm, she noticed, also had a plate of tayglekh, little doughy pastries, and a glass of milk in front of him. No doubt, her mom thought the broad, muscular man was too skinny.

“Ess,” Ruth declared when everyone just sat there looking at her. From the bits of green mask still dotting her mom’s face, she’d likely cleaned herself off in the kitchen sink. At least she was wearing a nightgown under her robe.

Grumpy and Grimm started eating, but Margery continued to sit across the table from Kelly and her son glaring daggers. A small, spiteful side of Kelly decided she approved of Margery’s misery and picked up her spoon, too.

Grumpy struggled to open his mouth enough without spilling or splashing the soup, and he didn’t seem willing to slurp it. Kelly pulled an idea from one of her favorite childhood movies, dropped her spoon, and picked up the bowl to sip from the side. Grumpy’s hand squeezed her thigh under the table before he followed suit.