The diner was a family favorite. Maisy’s father would sometimes treat the family to breakfast after Mass on Sunday. Her favorite was blueberry pancakes. It was a treat the entire family enjoyed. The owners came to know them all by name. The husband had purchased a Christmas gift for his wife at Gallagher Jewels, and the two men had become friends. Since that time the diner had sold to a new owner. It helped that they’d kept the most requested recipes, plus added a few more. It’d been a long time since Maisy had last visited.
It was too early for dinner, so they had no trouble finding a booth.
They both ordered coffee and apple crumble pie. Maisy waited until they were served before she spoke, curious as to what her grandmother had to say.
“All right, tell me what’s on your mind.”
Grams reached for her coffee, holding on to the beige mug with both hands. “It’s about Lloyd.”
Ah, so that was it. Lloyd was the seventy-year-old who lived in the same complex. Maisy found it hilarious that at age seventy-six, her grandmother would insist Lloyd was too young for her.
“Does he still leave pennies by your door?” she asked.
“Every day,” Grams fussed. “Yesterday, it was a nickel.”
It appeared Lloyd was upping his game.
“That tells me Lloyd is getting serious.”
She waved her hand, dismissing the thought. “Phooey.”
Maisy tried not to smile. She found this older generation’s way of courting highly entertaining. “I’ll say one thing for Lloyd,” she said. “He’s persistent.”
“That he is,” her grandmother agreed, and her cheeks reddened slightly.
“What’s up with Lloyd now that’s got you concerned?” Clearly the younger man was taking up her thoughts—otherwise, Grams wouldn’t have asked Maisy for advice.
Setting her mug down, her grandmother leaned forward. “Did I mention he’s my bridge partner now?”
“No. What happened to Betty?” Her grandmother and Betty had learned to play the game together when she’d first moved to the senior living complex. They’d become fast friends.
Grams sighed. “Poor Betty’s eyesight has gotten so bad she keeps making mistakes and decided to quit.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Me, too,” she said. “Now Lloyd is my partner.”
“Is that a problem?” Maisy asked. “Is he as good a player as Betty?”
She nodded. “Better, even. We took all four games this week. The best Betty and I ever did was two games.”
“Congratulations, that’s great. So, what’s the issue?”
Flushing an even deeper shade of pink, Grams looked away. “Lloyd is wearing me down. I’ve discovered to my surprise that I like him.”
Maisy understood her grandmother’s hesitation. She felt the same way about Chase. He’d called every night this week to tell her about one act of kindness he’d accomplished for that day. The night before, he mentioned the homeless man who lived in the alley near his office. Chase had brought him breakfast along with a cup of coffee and a fresh set of clothes. Often the things he did were small. Holding the elevator, bringing Krispy Kreme doughnuts into a team meeting. He’d been clever and thoughtful in his actions. It was wonderful to see how his attitude had changed. He credited her, although she had done little, other than inspire him.
She found it easy to talk to him—too easy. After several minutes she remembered that she needed to be cautious with Chase. As Sean had warned her, becoming overly attached to a man who most likely viewed her as a novelty wouldn’t end well. Especially when they lived thousands of miles apart. Whatever was between them was destined not to last. Their evening chats took time away from her studies, time she’d religiously guarded until now. She didn’t mind if she had to study later than usual because she was on her phone with Chase. Admittedly, it led to less sleep than normal. The price, however, was worth her morning yawns and tired eyes.
It seemed Chase found it difficult to let her go. He often followed up their conversations with texts. Almost every night, within minutes of their call ending, she’d get jokes and funny memes that caused her to smile. Ones that were hard to ignore and not respond to. Soon her fingers were tapping away on her phone with lengthy exchanges. Despite her reservations about his interest in her, Maisy found herself treasuring their nightly conversations. She liked him.
A lot.
Her grandmother sighed, bringing Maisy’s attention back to her.
“Lloyd asked me to dinner again and said he was going to cook it himself. What do you think, Maisy? Should I accept?”
Maisy didn’t hesitate. “You like Lloyd. He’s a good bridge partner and he knows his way around a kitchen. Why not let him cook you dinner?”
