Page 74 of You Saw the Best In Me

I put on my best poker face.

“This is the twenty-first century, Martha. Women are allowed to work, vote, and even own property. I know you’re stuck in the barefoot and pregnant days, but the world doesn’t stop evolving just because the old broads can’t find a man to dust off the cobwebs,” I assert myself and stand up from the couch.

I’m done with this conversation.

Maverick and Harper are equally shocked, both their mouths hanging wide open. I hope I didn’t cross a line, but fuck, she had it coming.

“I thought you’d be a pussy and run for the hills. I’m impressed. Turns out you’re a smug little cunt,” she calls out, and I laugh.

“The biggest one you’ll ever meet,” I say over my shoulder, effectively ending this war.

That’s two people I’ve out-bitched today, and god damn, it feels fantastic. The power flows through my veins, and I take one more bold step before settling down.

I sit on the stool at the kitchen island, waiting for Harper and Maverick to collect their jaws from the floor before going in for the kill.

“Martha, you should appreciate your grandchildren more. Such a lovely woman raised them,” I shout, and she curses before turning the volume up on her TV show.

Maverick smiles, shaking his head while he tends to his pasta, and Harper looks entertained. I may not have nailed meet-the-grandmother, but I certainly made an impression.

I don’t care who she is; there’s no reason to be an asshole to those who love and care for her.

I’ll defend Mav and Harper from anybody.

Finally, dinner is ready, and we sit in an awkward silence as we fill our plates. Harper breaks first, filling us in on her soccer schedule and the eighth-grade gossip.

Martha doesn’t say a word and barely looks up from her plate. Maverick squeezes my thigh under the table, erasing any doubt that I could’ve crossed a line or upset him.

The food is delicious. These two know their way around the kitchen, and these meatballs nearly melt in my mouth.

I compliment both chefs and offer my clean-up services once everyone has cleared their plates.

“Can I help?” Harper asks, and I let her hand me the dirty dishes.

“Did everyone love the pink in your hair?” I make conversation, and she lists all the colors she wants next.

“We’ll have to check with Maverick first,” I smile, and she rolls her eyes.

“Anything you two want, just leave me out of it,” he chimes in, obviously learning his lesson from last time.

The atmosphere has shifted like it’s just three of us busting chops and enjoying the evening.

Harper tells a story about when she was little and got into a whole container of ice cream, and Maverick laughs like it was yesterday.

“Mavvy, have you told your little girlfriend about the days I’d let you sweat out your DUIs in the drunk tank? Or how about when you ruined your mother’s funeral by showing up drunk? Maybe she wouldn’t think you’re so sweet if she knew who you really are,” Grams yells from across the room, instantly icing the mood.

“Grams, leave Mav alone. He’s nothing but good to us!” Harper defends him, and I pull her in for a hug.

This is no way to behave around a teenager, especially when we’re bringing up past mistakes. I’ve had enough of this woman berating Maverick, but I leave the house rather than show my cards.

I hear yelling from inside the house, mainly Maverick’s voice. Harper is close behind me, and I tell her everything will be okay.

“They fight like this sometimes, but Grams is really mad about you. She thinks he’s spending too much time on you,” Harper fills me in, and now my blood boils.

Being jealous of your grandson because he’s finally happy? That’s twisted as shit.

Now, I know why my instincts never told me to push on learning more about this vile woman.

“Should we rescue him?” I ask, a softness in my voice.