the subject is love. We are talking love, aren’t we? This isn’t some prefabricated actress and a case of kinky boredom, is it?”
“No. Hydraulic tits and strap-ons don’t interest me. That’s more Stan’s thing. I’m a boring, middle-of-the-road kind of guy.”
Darnell Senior barked with laughter and then immediately apologized. “Stanford is lucky I like him so much. That boy needs an ass whupping, though.”
“Maybe therein lies the problem,” Arnie calmly suggested. “He isn’t a boy. Time to let life bite him in the ass.”
“Point well made. Now back to this woman. Love or infatuation?”
The moment required Arnie to be serious, so he cleared his throat and stood at attention. The yellow blooms hung close to the old guy’s shoulder and reminded him of eavesdropping neighbors.
Okay. Here goes.
“She’s a local girl. Currently employed as a waitress. She’s taking classes. Oh, and she has a green thumb.”
He threw the green thumb comment in at the end, hoping to soften the man’s reaction.
Darnell Wanamaker Senior—titan of business and master of the financial world—stared at Arnie so intently that a ring of nervous sweat dampened his shirt collar. It was important to have the old guy’s support, so he wasn’t sure what he’d do if his grandfather threw a fit.
When he spoke, Arnie steeled himself for the worse.
Holding up a finger at a time, Darnell Senior parroted Arnie’s descriptive words. Only he jumbled the order to make a point.
“Waitress, student, green thumb. Girl?” The recrimination coupled with the expectation of a reasonable explanation was made clear by his tone.
“It’s not as bad as it sounds,” he quickly interjected. “There’s nothing jailbait-y about her,” he grumbled with a frown. “But there are like a dozen years, and she’s not what you’d call worldly.” Saying the words made him cringe.
His tone shifted, and he was ready to come back with a more assuring attitude when a hearty chuckle from his granddad cut him off.
“Found a good girl, did you? Well, hot damn, Arnie! I don’t have to meet her to know she’s a keeper.” Senior’s chuckle turned to a wry drawl. “You surprise me. I’d expect you to have this young lady on lockdown if you’re so sure about her.”
“Is a couple of amazing days enough to throw two lives into chaos?”
Granddad’s laughter filled the greenhouse. “I approve of using the word chaos to describe what really happens when two worlds collide.” He pushed off the table, took another inhale of the pretty yellow flowers, and carefully made his way back onto the electric scooter.
Arnie followed behind, conscious of every step the man took. He sensed discomfort but no pain.
“How’s the hip? Does the water therapy help?”
Watching the grandfather he adored and respected grapple with the limitations of aging was a bitch and a half. He remembered them going to one of his first Yankees games, and how Senior spent every Saturday that summer playing catch with him and Stan. The guy had limitless energy and always had stuff to do. This diminishing physicality was a part of the journey, though, so with true Wanamaker panache, his granddad redesigned every inch of the livable portion of the farm to allow for senior life accommodations. The scooter pathways, a small gazebo, garden benches, and walking paths with a handrail blended in perfectly.
“I’ll tell you what helps,” Granddad hooted with a grin. “Having a pretty physical therapist with a charming laugh. Bethany doesn’t take any crap, and she isn’t interested in my money.”
Arnie’s left brow shot up. “Excuse me, what? Money? Uh, dude. Sounds more like a relationship than a therapist.”
His concerned reaction was blown off with a dismissive wave. “She’s a widow with plenty of funds,” Granddad explained. “Retired from nursing until she got bored with nothing to do, so now she takes on clients who she feels she can help.”
“And you find her helpful?”
“Well, between you, me, and the lamppost, she’s a right, royal bitch about the therapy. But she got me up and walking again. One thing led to another, and before I knew it, she brought in a nutritionist to manage things with the housekeeper. Before long, we were sharing meals, and now we cook together a few nights a week.”
“Yep.” Arnie chuckled. “Sounds helpful to me.”
The lighthearted moment was cut off when the phone in his pocket sent a vibration sequence intended to make him jump. The timing could not have been shittier. Tension rocketed through his system.
They were on one of the scooter pathways. When he stopped walking to reach into his