Page 11 of Rosie
“I’m sure I can find it.” Matt’s gruff voice did funny things to Rosie’s insides. It made her feel warm and tingly low in her belly, and she wasn’t sure what that was supposed to mean.
“Um …” The siblings turned around to face her, Matt with a scowl on his forehead. She pushed the container at him before her suddenly sweaty palms made her drop it. “I made you muffins. As a welcome-to-the-building thing.” He took the container gingerly, as if it were a bomb ready to explode. “They’re blueberry. Olivia said that was your favorite.” She gulped.
“Thanks.” Matt’s voice was so quiet, she almost missed his response. Just then, the pizza delivery person buzzed at the door, and Olivia took the opportunity to show Matt how the intercom worked. It was just as well that they left the kitchen; Rosie didn’t know if she could stand the awkwardness much longer. He probably thought she was weird; who bakes for the new neighbor anymore? But he wasn’t just any new neighbor. This was Olivia’s brother.
Olivia’s really, really cute younger brother… Rosie groaned internally. Even if he wasn’t off-limits, he clearly didn’t like her. That must have been brotherly affection she’d read too much into all those years ago. She needed to blast this attraction out of the sky before it took off into hyperspace. After today, she didn’t need to hang out with him. This had been a favor for her friend. She scarfed down a couple slices of pizza, then headed home.
Rosie woke up hours before her alarm, a major problem with switching her sleep schedule around. She’d been so tired from helping move Matt in, she’d gone to bed far earlier than she’d meant to. Groaning, she got up to start her day, already knowing she’d need a lot of coffee to make it through her night shift.
After a nice long shower, she took the time to cook herself a big breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon, and home fried potatoes. She’d need the extra energy, and a hot breakfast was a luxury she didn’t often give herself. After she scrubbed the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen, it was only eleven o’clock.
No new episodes ofThe Mandalorianwere out yet, and she’d already done her laundry that week. Maybe someone would want to hang out? No, wait. Jade had to work the open-to-close shift at the Bean, Mia said she was deep in script edits, Olivia was taking Matt around town, and Nadia was going to be with Caleb all day. Her thoughts wandered to Gram and Grandad. She hadn’t seen them in weeks, always busy with work, but maybe she could spend her surprise extra time with them? She missed them. They’d be home from Sunday Mass by the time Rosie got there; she decided to surprise them with lunch.
She didn’t remember her parents. Gram had showed her photos and home videos, but those amounted to other peoples’ memories. It wasn’t the same. Her parents were taken from this world too young, and she wished she could remember, but memories don’t form until at least two years of age. She’d barely been one. There was so much her parents had missed out on; they hadn’t even got married yet when they were hit by that drunk driver. Gram and Grandad had been just young enough that carrying around a baby with their last name had raised several eyebrows, but that changed when she started grade school. As far as she was concerned, theywereher parents. She just called them something different.
Apparently, her father’s parents had opposed the relationship, and the impending marriage. And once their son was dead, they had no desire to bond with his flesh and blood. Last Gram had heard, they’d moved to Arizona.
The last time she saw her grandparents, it had just been Rosie and Gram for lunch. They had wanted to try a new restaurant. After a quick stop at that same bistro specializing in fresh, healthy food, Rosie made her way down to Gram and Grandad's retirement community. She’d grabbed a quart of fresh chicken noodle soup, and the fancy salads she and Gram had liked when they ate there before. Grandad probably wouldn’t complain much, since his salad had bacon on it.
She waved to the guard at the gate and drove slowly past the fancy carriage houses. It was a nice, safe place for them. There were poker games and fishing trips for Grandad, and a quilting club and bridge tournaments for Gram. She couldn’t wait to surprise them.
Bags in hand, she strolled up to the house with “McGann” on the sign outside. It was the only bit of personalization they could put on the outside in this community, in that everyone had their last name on the same style sign. But it was super helpful when every house looked the same.
She was about to knock, even though she had a key, when a high-pitched scream assaulted her ears. Immediately, her brain went to the worst scenario, and she swung the door wide, calling for her grandmother, to reveal —
Gram in a racy red negligee running through the living room, chased by her Grandad in his white briefs.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!” Rosie clamped a hand over her eyes, but she was going to need some kind of bleach to erase what she’d just seen.
“Rosemarie?” The sounds of running came to a screeching halt.
“Rosie-girl, what a nice surprise!” Her grandfather hadn’t seemed to care she’d walked in on what was clearly intended to be a private moment.
“Michael, go put on your trousers! Rosie, dear, we weren’t expecting you …”
“I am so, so sorry. I had some unexpected free time and I missed you guys, so I thought I’d bring you lunch, and then I heard you scream so I thought someone was hurt and … I promise I will nevereverdrop in again. I can just leave lunch and go.”
“Don’t be silly. We really should have locked the door. What if you’d been aneighbor?” Gram tugged her arm down, and Rosie could see she’d slipped into her bathrobe while Rosie had rambled. “Are you okay, dear?”
“I guess, it’s just … Gram, it’sSunday afternoon!”
“And whatever happens in the marriage bed is sacred.” Gram puffed up a bit and tightened her robe.
“Is … sex healthy at your age? Is it safe?” Guilt stabbed her when she realized she’d obliterated the mood for them.
“Of course it is, dear. We’re old, not dead.” Gram chuckled.
Rosie had a difficult time reconciling this Gram with the version that had raised a twenty-four-year-old so virginal, she’d never really been kissed. How did Gram go from “Keep a quarter between your knees” to … this?
Good grief, her seventy-year-old grandparents were getting more action than she was! What would her squad say if they knew?
Grandad came back to the living room fully dressed, and Gram excused herself to do the same. While they waited, Rosie set up lunch in the dining room.
“Salad? Rosie, are you on a health kick?”
She rolled her eyes. Gram was always on Grandad to watch what he ate, mostly because he didn’t like to follow the doctor’s recommendations. Something was always off with his blood work.
“No, Grandad, I just love their food. Besides, I got you the one withbacon.”
