1
Rita
“HE’S FINALLY HERE!” Granny had the brightest smile on her face. Not much made her happy these days. Her best friend Bea had moved into an assisted living home a couple of months ago after falling and breaking her hip. Granny hadn’t been the same since.
I tried to take her to visit Bea at least once a week. On that day, Granny would wake up before the sun with the most energy she had all week. All because of Bea. It hurt my heart that I couldn’t do more for her… for them.
“Who, Granny?” I went to the front window to see who she was talking about but only saw a moving truck and movers.
“Nik, you know Nik? Bea’s grandson.”
I shook my head, having no clue who she was talking about. I didn’t recall Bea having any children, much less a grandson. I knew about a sister in Mexico and assumed that was where most of her family lived. Maybe Granny was getting a little senile. She turns seventy-six next spring.
A scowl appeared on her tan, leathery face. “Yes, yes, yes! I told you about him, Bea’s grandson, Nik.”
Nope. He didn’t ring a bell, but I’d never tell Granny as much.
“Oh, sure!” I put my hand on the side of my head as if I just remembered to appease her. “Bea’s grandson Nik, yes, of course. How could I forget?” I’d roll my eyes or smack my head if she wasn’t staring at me with her beady brown eyes.
In the last year, her memory started failing, and I could tell her health was dwindling but didn’t want to believe it. When Granny was gone, I’d have no one. The very thought of being alone in the world scared the shit out of me.
“There he is!”
I couldn’t see this Nik guy, only a few movers who were unloading a big truck. One in particular had his shirt off. Compared to the others, he probably worked out religiously—what a show-off.
Maybe Nik was on the other side of the moving truck. Lord forbid Granny was imagining him. Mercy, I sent up a quick prayer for the almighty God to help her.
“Go say hi. Welcome Nik to the neighborhood.” Granny patted my arm, pushing me away. “But don’t be too friendly.”
Now I did roll my eyes. I knew what she meant about being too friendly. Granny believed I was still a virgin and wanted me to stay that way until I fell in love and got married. I lost my V-card back in high school and had been with several men, none of whom I’d ever consider beyond a one-night stand. I wasn’t looking for a husband. Granny was my focus, and love had been on the back burner for years.
“But I’m cooking.” And how would I talk to someone who wasn’t there? “My sauce might burn.”
“The spaghetti can wait. Go be a nice girl. Just not too nice.” She pushed me along. “I’ll turn down your sauce.”
I rolled my eyes.Nice girl.If she only knew how not a nice girl I was when she wasn’t around.
“Okay, Granny. I’ll go…”Humor her. What can it hurt?
I tugged on the bottom of my torn denim shorts, making sure they hadn’t crept too far up my ass, and fixed my pink tank top. I wasn’t wearing a bra today since I had no plans to go anywhere. After work on Thursdays, I cleaned the house and cooked an Italian meal of some sort. We might be Portuguese, but we loved pasta.
What I didn’t expect to do today was be the welcoming committee for a new neighbor. Oh well. What was a girl to do? Not much of anything. What Granny says goes.
I slipped on my flip-flops at the door and opened it. A wall of penetrating heat smacked me in the face. My weather app had said it was going to be 101 degrees, not typical for Pasadena. It was a scorcher of a day.
This little welcome would be fast, like ten-seconds fast.
I strode across the street, waving at a few elderly neighbors peering out their windows while trying to keep my tits from bouncing. Dammit, the asphalt was hot too. I hurried without caring about my jiggling boobs.
I rounded the front of the moving truck and stopped mid-step when the shirtless mover appeared—the very sexy, dripping-in-sweat, muscles-galore mover.
“Watch it, asshole! That flatscreen is top of the line!” the shirtless guy barked. “And you.” He started in on two others carting a chair into the house. “Don’t scratch the leather!” Like a cocky smart-ass, this guy strutted around with boundless confidence. He must be the one in charge.
And I couldn’t take my eyes off him. Maybe I should get his number; I always liked a mouthy bad boy. They were the best hookups because, again, I wasn’t looking for a husband. But a woman had needs, and I didn’t want to like the guy satisfying me.
What was I thinking? The heat must have melted my brain. I couldn’t do that in the off chance Granny was watching. I needed to have on my good girl crown.
“Yes, sir,” the scared movers said in unison.