his favor."
"Then what started it? There had to have been something he did that made you angry enough to call the cops on him."
She sets down the fork she was holding and turns to me. "I phoned the police because he was using one of those…those gadgets that blows leaves around…"
"A leaf blower?"
"Yes, except he was using it to clean the dirt from his porch and the noise was completely unacceptable. I probably suffered hearing loss because of it. The man could have used a simple broom and made no noise whatsoever." She walks to the coffee pot, which is beeping to let us know it's done. "I told him that, too, but did he listen? Of course not. The man is stubborn as an ox. And did you hear his grandson this morning? He's obviously never been taught to be respectful to his elders."
"I agree he could've been nicer, but to be fair you did kind of—" I stop as she shoots me an angry look.
She pours the coffee. "This is what I mean when I say you don't make good decisions when it comes to men. That young man was being disrespectful this morning and instead of seeing that, you're defending his actions."
"I wasn't defending him. I was just—never mind. It doesn't matter."
She brings me a cup of coffee. "When you're young and you like a boy, it's easy to see past his flaws and make excuses for him."
"That's not what I'm doing. And I never said I liked him."
"I know you find him attractive. Even at my age I admit he's an attractive young man. But looks and character are two separate things. That boy make have looks but he lacks character."
"But how do you know that? You don't even know him."
"Because of the way he spoke to me this morning."
"He was sticking up for his grandfather. He didn't use the best approach but his intentions were good."
She sighs. "Faith, do you hear yourself? You're doing exactly what I just said you would do. You're making excuses for behavior that shouldn't be excused. If that young man had character, he'd come over here and apologize. But instead, he'll go in that garage of his and turn his music up, knowing how much it bothers me. You can make all the excuses you want for him, but if you were able to get past his appearance, you'd see that his lack of character is clear in his actions."
I don't agree with her. Tyler was just trying to protect his grandpa. He felt like Walter was being attacked, which made him angry and caused him to react the way he did.
Not wanting to argue about it, I quietly drink my coffee while Grams goes back to sorting through the silverware.
By eleven-thirty, I've made several trips to the garbage and have organized the stuff worth giving away into boxes that have been labeled and taped shut. Even the giveaway stuff has to be organized or Grams worries we'll mix it up with the stuff we're keeping. She could be right but her excessive organization is starting to get on my nerves, and it's only been a day. I'm starting to think the next two years won't go as smoothly as I was hoping.
While Grams heads to town to meet up with her friend, I sit on the porch with a cold glass of lemonade. I can hear Tyler working in his garage but I don't mind the noise. Before my parents divorced, my dad used to putz around in the garage. Sometimes I'd join him and we'd talk. We had a freezer chest in there and Dad kept it stocked with popsicles and ice cream treats which I'd fill up on during our talks. Actually, he didn't talk much. It was mostly me, telling him whatever grade school drama had happened that day.
My parents divorced when I was eight, and soon after, my dad married someone else and moved away and we grew apart. I talk to him now and then but haven't seen him in over a year. But to this day, one of my best memories of him was sitting in the garage while he tinkered with whatever he was trying to fix.
Tyler turns his music on but it's so low I can barely hear it. I think Grams is wrong about him. He's not a bad guy. I'm not saying I would date him but I wouldn't mind getting to know him.
Going back in the house, I