“I could’ve picked you up in your own cart and brought you,” I reason.
She waves away that option, stabilizing herself with her other hand on her walker. “Where’s the fun in that?”
“I have to write you both citations,” Beau says.
“Well?” Grams snaps. “What’re you waiting for?”
His mouth twitches. “I guess I’m waiting to see if Gemma wants some ice cream. Anything look good?”
Grams growls like a mother bear. “I want that citation, Palmer! And make it snappy!”
Beau looks at me with a twinkle in his eye.
“It better be done by the time I pay,” Grams says, trying to balance as she reaches for her purse.
“I’ve got it, Grams,” I say. “You and Deedee go sign your citations.”
Beau opens the door for Grams and Deedee, and I mouth the wordsgood luckto him.
“Would you like something, Gemma?” Elaine asks.
“Would I ever,” I say. “But not right now. Thank you. I’ll just pay for those two cones before Grams starts a fist fight with Officer Palmer.”
“Probably wise of you,” she says with a smile. “They’re on the house, though.”
I thank her and open the door, pausing at the sound of Grams’s scolding voice.
“Don’t think you’re fooling me, Palmer,” she says, standing next to Beau as he writes on his clipboard. “You won’t have my Gigi! You hear me? You Palmers think you can take whatever you want,whoever you want, no matt?—”
Deedee clears her throat loudly, her wide gaze on me and her citation in hand.
Grams’s head turns, and her mouth presses into a thin lineat the sight of me. “Can I sign my citation now?” she asks Beau with annoyance.
His gaze flits to me, then he signs the bottom and hands the clipboard to Grams.
She scribbles something that can’t possibly look like Virginia Sawyer, and hands the board back.
Beau tears the slip off the pad and hands it to her. “With all due respect, Virginia…I’m not my grandpa.” He holds Grams’s gaze for a few seconds, then turns to Deedee. “Can I trust you to get the cart and Virginia back to Seaside Oasis safely? Or I could escort you if you’d prefer.”
“No, no,” Grams says. “We’ll go in peace. We got what we wanted, right, Deedee?”
Deedee hurries to finish her ice cream as she walks to the driver’s side of the golf cart they brought.
I help Grams collapse the walker down, then set it in the back of the cart.
“Don’t you trust him, Gigi,” Grams says. “Never trust a Palmer.”
“Should I come with you?” I ask, ignoring her comments. I don’t feel like I can agree with her, but anything short of that risks adding fuel to the fire. I’d hoped her recent silence on the subject of the Palmers was evidence she was moving past things, but tonight is proof I was wrong.
“Don’t baby me, Gigi,” Grams says, even as I hold her ice cream cone so she can get into the cart. My eyes flick to Beau, who’s smiling slightly, though it doesn’t make his eyes wrinkle at the sides like it usually does.
A couple minutes later, we wave to the two women as they drive off toward the retirement center.
“Sorry about that,” I say. “She’s always…intense.”
He shakes his head. “No need for sorries. She cares a lot about you. And she hates me. It’s normal for her to be upset andprotective.” He bumps my shoulder with his. “Hey, how does a double scoop of ice cream sound?”
“Ugh. Amazing. I almost stole a few licks of Grams’s, but she would’ve noticed.”
