…
Or if your morning is busy, we could have lunch.
“Oh, Mr. Buchanan,” I murmur. “How daring.”
“What?” Grandma demands. “Who is it? Why are you smiling that way?”
“What way?” I blush. “I’m not. It’s just work.”
“I don’t believe you,” she sings. “I bet it’s a man.”
“You’re right.”
“A handsome man.”
I grin. “Right again.”
“Is he smart?”
“Very.”
“Oh, that’s icing on the cake. Go ahead and answer him. I’ll wait.”
BK: Lunch sounds very nice. What would you think about coming to the hotel? Reign has a great menu. Oh, and lunch is on me.
MB: I can’t let you pay!
BK: It’s a business write-off. You are doing me a favour. I’ll make us a reservation at Reign at 12:00 tomorrow, okay?
MB: I am looking forward to seeing you then.
As am I, I think.
Grandma’s expression is priceless. Like she’s a kid waiting on a secret. “Well? What did he say?”
“I have a lunch date tomorrow.”
She claps her hands together. “With a handsomeandsmart man. What’s his name?”
“Mr. Buchanan.”
“Ooh. I had a teacher named Mr. Buchanan, but he wasn’t even remotely handsome.” She sighs dreamily, which is very sweet on a ninety-four-year-old woman. “A lunch date. Very romantic.”
“It’s not supposed to be romantic, Grandma. It’s a work lunch. He’s doing some research for me.”
“I think it will be romantic anyway. I have a good feeling about it. Oh dear. I cannot remember the last time I did anything romantic. Everyone deserves a little fun in their lives. All work and no play makes Jill a dull girl, as they say.”
Grandma’s lonely, and it’s only getting worse as her friends die one by one. I’m glad she has me, but frankly, I’m just as glad that I have her. I can’t imagine not having her. When she’s finished eating, I dump the used chopsticks and mostly empty containers back in the paper bag they came in, thenI collect our plates and carefully wash the fine china in the sink, trying not to think about a future without her.
It’s like she reads my mind. “Life goes awfully quickly, Bridget.” She hands me a towel to dry the dishes. As I dry, she places them back in the cupboard and offers advice. “Enjoy every minute you can. There is little that makes me happier than seeing you content, dear.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“I wish your mother was here to see how wonderful you turned out.”
My vision blurs, and I fight the urge to cry. “Aw, Grandma. I feel the same way about you.”
chapterTWELVE
