I burst into laughter. “Excuse me? What?”
“She just needs a man to occupy her time. Make her happy after menopause.”
“Gran is a handful. But then again, all of you are.”
“We’re a treasure, and you know it.” Rose flips a slice. “She’s so busy trying to hook everyone else up to take the attention off herself. I think it’s time the tables get turned.”
“Good luck, ma’am. I am not getting involved. She will retaliate, and I don’t have the energy. Gran always wins,” I say, snatching a freshly cut strawberry out of a bowl. It’s sweet and juicy.
The Bees arrive at seven thirty, and Birdie already has opinions about the humidity. The closer we get to the Fourth, the more complaining there is about how hot it is. Gran settles into her chair at the head of the table and pulls a bottle of vodka from her oversize purse.
My mouth falls open as they each pour half orange juice, half vodka, then start whispering. After thirty minutes, my grandmother makes plates of French toast with sliced strawberries and powdered sugar, and the three of them dig in like they haven’t eaten in days.
I move toward the table. “What did the three of you do all night?”
“Crocheted,” Gran says as I make myself a plate.
Once I’m finished eating, Carter comes downstairs at nine in shorts and a gray T-shirt. He nods at the Bees, gives compliments to Rose, and sits at the end of the table to join them. How this man has them all wrapped around his little finger is beyond me. But then again, I’m guilty of it too. They laugh the entire breakfast.
“Carter, are you sure you don’t want me to start setting up some dates for you?”
“No thanks.”
“I think we should start setting Gale up,” Rose blurts out.
“Now, that’s something I can get on board with,” Carter tells her. “I’ll start chatting with older men in the grocery store.”
“Oh hush. Who says I’m into older men?” she asks.
Carter tilts his head and bursts into laughter. “Touché. Anyway, have a good one. Do we need anything? I’ll happily walk to the store.”
“No, we’re good,” Lucille tells him.
Carter walks past the front desk, and on his way back, his hand finds the small of my back.
“I think your grandma is flirting with me,” he whispers in my ear.
“Go away.”
His hand rubs my ass, and I glance back toward the dining room, where none of them are focused on us.
“You smell so fucking good.”
“You do too,” I whisper.
Since we crossed the line, Carter stands closer and touches me longer, like he’s afraid all of this will disappear. He moves away, smirking, knowing exactly what he does to me.
“Wendy,” Gran says as I stare at the laptop screen. “Honey, I’ve said your name four times.”
I keep my eyes forward. “Sorry. I was lost in thought.”
“What do you think about setting Carter up with Fallon? Can you help us make that happen?” she asks.
I look at her, confused. “Fallon?”
“Your best friend,” she says, like I’ve stupidly forgotten.
“Gran, Fallon doesn’t want to be set up with anyone. And if you do get in her business, it shouldn’t be Carter you’re trying to set her up with.”
