Grandma pulls out a dog biscuit from her apron.
“Where did you get that?” I ask, looking at the vibrantly green bone.
“I made them. All healthy ingredients, a little bit of kelp, some blueberries, and peanut butter. I’ve got some chicken flavoured ones for him to try, too. You have to have special snacks when you come to Grandma’s house, don’t you?” She rubs his head, then stands up and gestures for me to follow.
I trudge up the steps and walk into the house while she leads Danger in.
We have always had our own spots at the table, and I go straight to where I’ve always sat. It’s so ingrained I don’t even think about it. I reach for a muffin sitting on a plate with a dozen more.
“Oh, they’re warm.”
“Course, they are. Your grandma knew you were coming. She was up before dawn cooking comfort muffins.”
I bite into one that is steaming hot. Apple and cinnamon, with chopped walnuts. It is a comfort, but I don’t know if it’s because of the memories attached to it or because they are always dense, moist, and so full of flavour you forget yourself.
“Right,” Grandpa says as he slides me a cup of coffee. “Morning, darling. It’s good to see you.”
I wrap my hands around the mug and lift it up, inhaling the rich scent before I take a sip.
“Mmm, how does it always taste better here?”
“Because we’re magic,” Grandpa says. “You two stay here and talk. I’m going to take your young fella down to the beach.”
I whip around and see Elijah walking up the path. I sink down, hating that I both want to run to him and away from him.
Grandma watches me wordlessly until they are gone.
“Talk.”
I take another bite of the muffin to delay, but it’s gone too soon.
“Fine. I slept with Elijah.” I throw the words out recklessly, then peek at her face to see her reaction.
“Okay.” She says the word carefully.
“And Mack.”
Grandma leans back in her chair, her arms crossed over her chest. “Go you.”
I scoff and pick up my coffee cup again.
“And?”
“And I am having…post bliss panic.”
Grandma snorts. “I haven’t heard of post bliss panic.”
“Well, it’s like normal after-sex regrets except it was so good you want to do it again and to hell with your responsibilities and life.”
“Ah, so that good was it?”
“It was like…we were connecting in a way I’ve never felt before. Like not seeing him for even a minute would be painful. Like having sex with them changed me in a fundamental way that means I will never, ever be the same.”
“Well, sex that good always needs another muffin,” she says and slides another muffin my way.
I sigh in exasperation.
“Don’t sigh like that. Food helps cure the stupid.” She turns away. “Sounds like you need it,” she mutters.
