Page 80 of Off the Mark
Dean sat, pulling Tabitha down in his lap. “Whatever she says, don’t deny it. Just accept your punishment.”
I was about to add something equally as smartass but clammed up at the expression on my grandmother’s face.
“You,” she said, pointing, “have a secret you’ve been keeping from me.”
“How would I be doing that? I see you all the damn time, lady.”
She sniffed, looking smug. “But you forgot to mention that you’re dating a nice girl who rides motorcycles?”
I darted a surprised glance at Dean and Tabitha, who were doing a horrible job of keeping their cool.
I dropped my elbows to my knees. “Okay, who told you?”
“My hairdresser’s son’s friend saw a picture of you two together on the internet. And you know Susan, who works the deli counter at the Acme, confirmed it.”
My gut twisted with the weight of the lie now that this scheme had finally found its way to South Philly. Beyond whatever boyhood mischief I got up to, I wasn’t in the habit of tellingactuallies to my grandmother, though I knew she’d find out about Charlie eventually.
Given how she and I had left things, did it even matter anymore?
I opened my mouth, prepared to tell the truth, but then I saw how…happyshe seemed.
“You’re not…mad?” I asked warily.
“Yes, I’m mad. But I also want to have her over for dinner, get to know her. How’s tonight? And why do you look sick to your stomach?”
Dean coughed awkwardly into his fist—he’d seen me on the ride home from Charlie’s race, knew we weren’t on the best terms right now.
“It’s not having her over for dinner,” I said, “it’s that, with me and Charlie, things are casual. It’s not serious. And I don’t want you to meet her, or get your hopes up, if it’s not made to last.”
Lying didn’t feel great but setting her up with false expectations wasn’t something I could justify.
She pressed her lips into a thin line. “I’m not worried about that, Rowan. Casual, serious”—she waved her hand through the air— “can’t an old lady cook dinner for her family and meet a motorcycle girl?”
And it was there—the slight hitch in her voice, the tremble in her fingers that tended to worsen this time of year, that had me saying, “Absolutely. I’ll call her on my way in to work.”
She clapped her hands together. “Wonderful. I’ll plan the menu and the drinks. Dean and Tabitha, you’ll come too.”
“Yes, ma’am, we’ll be there,” Dean replied. Tabitha gave a cheeky salute.
“Now how did you and Charlie meet?” my grandmother asked.
The back of my neck was glowing hot, and not from the sun. It was the memory of what I’d said,triedto say, when we fought.
And I said yes because you know me. And you know there isn’t anything you could ask of me that I would say no to.
“Do you remember the friend who sat with me at the hospital before you and Dean arrived?” I said and watched my grandmother’s face soften. “That’s Charlie. We reconnected recently and started seeing each other.Casually. Her big race is a little over a week away, and then she’s back on the road again anyway.”
That was the tricky reality, buried beneath thispretend datingscenario that I’d cheerfully ignored. It didn’t matter what happened—she was always gonna take off in the end. She always had. And where would that leave me?
“Yes, I remember. I never met her but always wanted to because I’m so grateful she was there. What is she like?” my grandmother prompted.
“Charlie is tough. Brave. Fearless and completely determined. A fighter.”
Her eyes shone. “I like her already. It sounds like she’ll fit right in here.”
“She doesn’t tolerate any of my bullshit either,” I added with a grin. “Charlie’s one of a kind.”
I kept my focus trained on my grandmother. Whatever facial reactions Dean and Tabitha were having to what I was saying were only going to give my grandmother more to gossip about. All Dean had to mention was that I’d stayed up half the night decorating glitter signs for Charlie’s race, and Alice would be hand-addressing wedding invitations by the end of the week.
