Benny nodded, dead serious. “I’ve been watching videos.”
“Exactly why you shouldn’t have a phone.”
“Seriously, Grandpa. Peopleswearhe lives out here and they call him…the Wasatch Sasquatch!”
“That’s a mouthful.”
Benny jumped again. “But Bigfoot is scarier. So we make her think he’s real and he’s hanging around her cabin.”
Red pressed his lips together, fighting the grin creeping up. “You plan to dress up like…Bigfoot?”
“I was thinking more just… sound-effects. And some footprints in the snow. Maybe a big hairy shadow in her window. We could?—”
Red let out a belly laugh, cutting him off. “She’s not dumb, Benny. I could dress up as Santa and come down her chimney, too, and she wouldn’t believe I was real. Bigfoot? Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack.”
Red glared. “We don’t make jokes about that,” he said. “And this isn’t a great idea.”
“Well, what should we do?” Benny demanded.
Red knew exactly what to do—tell Marshall what he thought he’d overheard and let the man handle his own problems. Surely he’d boot his ex-wife’s designer-clad behind out of here.
Or maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe that softhearted former NFL player who loved the Lord would think he had to “do the right thing” and marry her. Maybe Marshall would believe that was best for Olivia, who was clearly the man’s soft spot.
Maybe…Benny was right and they should just scare Bianca into leaving. Was Bigfoot the answer?
Of course not.
“Maybe something less extreme,” Red said.
He sighed. “Okay, okay. We put some leftovers—like fish—outside her door tonight. That’ll attract raccoons. They’ll make a racket, she’ll freak out, and—boom—she’ll think the woods are dangerous.”
“You realize raccoons carry rabies, right?” Red asked.
“Okay, no raccoons,” Benny conceded. “Come on, Grandpa. A Bigfoot sighting is exactly what we need.”
“No, a nap is what we need. And you just settle down and…do homework.”
“School’s out for winter break and…and…I’m scared, Grandpa.”
“Of Bigfoot?”
“Of Bianca,” he said, his voice heavy with sadness.
“You think she’s going to stomp you with one of her high heels?”
Benny didn’t laugh. His whole face fell into a serious scowl. “Marshall and Mom like each other,” he said matter-of-factly. “They hold hands and whenever they think we’re not looking, they kiss. And I like him, Grandpa. I want him to be around like…like…”
“Like a father?” Red suggested.
“I mean…” Benny swallowed. “Is it so bad to want that?”’
“No, Benny-bean. It’s not bad at all.” And Red, who currently held the status of father, grandfather, and great-grandfather to this wonderful little boy, had a responsibility to get that rolefilled just in case anything happened to him. “But no Bigfoot. I’m too old for your antics.”
“I’m not.”
“Benny.”
