“No. He doesn’t mind pee.”
“What? How would you know that?” I carefully chew what’s in my mouth since I’m on the verge of bursting into laughter, and I don’t want to spray pickle particles all over the place.
“No reason. I just had a feeling. Anyway, that’s good. Glad to hear you’re getting along.”
“I said he likes the animals. I didn’t say we were getting along.”
“No? You look happy. Happier than I’ve seen you in a long time.” Pappy S gives me that great-grandfatherly look of his, and I do my best not to squirm on the spot.
“Uh, well, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about, actually.”
Pappy S slides the pan off the burner and gives the stove a twist to turn the heat off. He already has two plates on the counter, so he slides three burger patties onto his and one onto mine.
“Jeez, I don’t know how you can eat like that and stay thin as a rail.” I think I say that every single time I see Pappy S eat because he eats like it’s literally going out of style. Those burger patties are huge. Believe me when I say one is more than enough to fill me up.
“That’s why I don’t bother with the other stuff. I just get right to the good part.”
“You definitely do.”
Taking our plates with us, we sit down at Pappy S’s table. Everything in this house is new since he mostly left everything in the house I’m in. He said it was too much of a bother to move it, but really, I think he just wanted his things to stay where they’ve always been. And I also had practically nothing of my own, furniture-wise, so I know he did it for me too.
“I forgot the tea. Do you want tea?”
“After,” Pappy S says, cutting into his first burger and taking a massive bite. He chews, swallows, and repeats. Pappy S eats the way he does everything in life, which is with gusto. He hasn’t slowed down one little bit, and sometimes, I feel so incredibly lazy next to Pappy S’s energy. “I want to hear about this roommate,” he adds.
“You know about him,” I inform him dryly. “You picked him out. Handpicked him out, to be precise. You were hoping something would develop between us.”
Pappy S frowns like he doesn’t know what I’m talking about, but I’m not going to let him fool me this time. He’s not getting himself off the hook.
“That’s not what I hoped for,” Pappy S admits after a long pause. I think he knows there’s something up with me. That I already know everything.
“Well, then what were you hoping for?”
“I was hoping you could have another friend. A good friend who would also look out for you when I couldn’t.”
“Don’t talk like that.” Great. Now my eyes are starting to get all filled up with annoying eye moisture. I refuse to admit they’re tears. I hate crying, so if I can use another word for it, then I’m going to.
“Well, it’s true. No one lives forever. Even if I was twenty-something through some magic time machine or if I met a talented witch or found the fountain of youth or what have you, I still would have to go at some point. I can’t say I know how anything works after we’re done with this part of our life. I don’t know if I can come back, but I also don’t know that I can’t come back either. I don’t know, period, so I thought it was a good idea to have a contingency plan.”
“But I have friends. Good friends. Friends who love me.”
“You do, but would they look after you? What about financially and in the other ways you might need?”
“And what ways would those be?”
Pappy S ignores that question for many obvious reasons, but he does cut another chunk of burger and chew hard before looking at me thoughtfully again. I know he knows I know now, so he just comes out with it.
“I wanted to make sure you were looked after financially. I know I have money set aside for the house, but in my will, I couldn’t just leave it all to you.”
“Of course not! I already feel guilty about being the one living in your house.”
“Don’t! It’s my house, and I can do what I want with it. I don’t think any of the other grandchildren or great-grandchildren would have wanted it anyway. I’m not supposed to have favorites, but I do, and you’ve always been mine. That said, I want you to know I’m leaving you the house. There is money set aside for it, too, should it ever need any repairs. You already know that. But I didn’t have much extra cash to give you. Regardless, I want you to have the options you deserve. You’re so bright, so talented. If you ever wanted to go back to school for anything, I want you to be able to do that. And if you should ever have a health scare, I want to be sure you could get the care you needed.”