“I am an old voman. Rules do not apply after seventy.”
“That seems convenient,” Sam said under her breath.
She blocked out most of the rest of Babushka’s chatter, but she caught a little talk about his sixth finger and the importance of treating it right. So, yeah.
“Being vulnerable is the most vital. Be vulnerable through the fear,” Babushka rambled on.
Sam paused, picking out her shoes. “Hold up. What did you say?”
’Cause that sounded like it could be good advice.
“Use caution when playing with the sixth finger. It spits,” Babushka said.
No. Gah. “After that.”
“Be vulnerable and do it afraid if you have to. It is key.”
See, now that was the type of grandmotherly advice that came in handy.
Sam sat on the edge of the bed to think it through. Shewasscared. And she didn’t like to be vulnerable.
Every time she’d been vulnerable, she’d run. But now she didn’t want to leave.
Where did that leave her?
“That’s really intense,” she said.
“The best relationships begin vhen you are scared. Not too scared, but enough that it’s a challenge to be exposed. That’s vhen you know it’s the good stuff. Because you open up and you do it scared.”
“You really saved that nugget for after the sixth finger, huh?” Sam asked.
Do it scared. She could do it scared. She could be Sam and she could stay and she could do it scared.
“He vill be here soon. You vear that? Or that?” Babushka gestured to the dress on the bed.
“That,” Sam agreed. She moved to the bathroom to change, fluffing her hair, and adding a bit more lip gloss.
“Babushka,” she said as she opened the bathroom door while loading up an extra lip gloss in her bag. “Thank you for being here.”
“Babushka took off,” Tanner said.
Sam paused. Slowly, she glanced up from her purse. Tanner sat on the little love seat in her makeshift living room.
They both sort of stared at the other, drinking in the moment.
“She let me in,” he said, cracking the silence. “Before she left.”
“Of course she did.” Sam moved toward him. Not that it was too many steps because he met her halfway.
His fingers moved to the sleeve of her dress. “I like this.”
Her blood swished quicker, like she was in that moment of disbelief when a person learned they’d won the lottery.
“I have a question,” she asked.
His hands were now at her jaw and she was pretty certain what came next would be him kissing the stuffing out of her. Good thing she packed extra lip gloss.
“How many dates have we been on?” she asked.
