was in the garage working on a car and hit his head and it started bleeding."
"You made the guy's head bleed?" She's laughing. "Great first impression, Faith."
"I know. I felt terrible. But if he didn't have his music so loud he would've heard me."
"Now you sound like your grandma."
"I didn't care about the music. I was doing it for Grams. Anyway, after I cleaned up his head, I went back home and that was it. I haven't talked to him since."
"Wait—you cleaned his head? And then what? You kissed him and made him better?" She's laughing again.
"Would you stop? I didn't kiss him."
"If he's that hot, sounds like you should have."
I hear the clink of pots and pans downstairs.
"Jules, I have to go. My grandma's making me clean out cupboards today. "
"Already? You still have two years before she sells the place. What's the rush?"
"That's just Grams. She won't be able to relax until everything's neat and tidy."
"Tell her you're busy. Tell her you have to go play nurse to the hot, hunky neighbor guy."
"Yeah, she'd love that," I say, rolling my eyes.
"She's not going to try to ban you from dating, is she?"
"Are you kidding? She doesn't even want me talking to him."
"I didn't mean your neighbor. I meant any guy, like a guy you meet at school."
"She might try but I won't listen. I'm 23, not 12. She can't tell me not to date."
"You should find her someone. That way she'd be too distracted with her own love life to get involved with yours. Sign her up for one of those online dating sites. They have ones just for old people."
I laugh. "Grams dating? I can't even imagine that. She met my grandpa in high school and they got married when they were 18. He was the only guy she ever dated."
"That's crazy. I can't imagine only being with one guy my entire life."
"I can't either but it worked for them."
"I'll let you go clean cupboards. Tell hottie neighbor I said hi. If you can't date him, maybe I will."
"From Colorado? The distance might be an issue."
"If he's hot enough, I could make it work. Talk to ya later."
"Yeah. Bye."
After I get ready, I go downstairs and find Grams has all the cupboards open and empty, their contents piled up on the counters and kitchen table. There's everything from muffin tins to spice jars to piles of mismatched silverware.
"What are you doing with all this stuff?" I ask, grabbing a mug and going over to the coffeemaker. Grams drinks coffee all day so she always has a fresh pot made.
She stands there, assessing all the items. "I'll start by tossing what we don't need and then we'll get to organizing."
Her grey hair is out of the curlers now, brushed and styled and sprayed into placed with hairspray. It's so perfect it looks like a wig. And even though we're cleaning, she has on a dress. It's a casual cotton dress in a yellow floral print. She calls it a work dress, which is different than her going out dresses or church dresses.
As for me, I have on cutoff denim shorts and a light pink tank top, my long blond hair pulled back in a ponytail. I always find it interesting how what's considered acceptable attire changes so much between generations.
"What do you want me to do?" I ask, sipping my coffee.
"Hmm." She taps her lip with her finger, then points to a box on the floor. "Would you mind taking that to the trash? You'll need to put everything in garbage bags first. I don't want the glass breaking and going all over the place."
Looking in the box I see an assortment of salt and pepper shakers made to look like pigs and cows and other things.
"You don't want these?" I ask, holding up a salt shaker that looks like a pig wearing a tutu.
"Of course not," she scoffs. "What would I do with such silly things?"
"It's not about using them. It's about keeping something that belonged to your sister."
"Faith, you know I'm not sentimental like that. Besides, objects aren't memories of a person. They just take up space."
I don't think she really believes that. I think the truth is those objects remind her of the person she's lost, which makes her sad. When my grandpa died, she got rid of his things the day after the funeral. The only thing she held onto was his wedding ring, which she keeps in the nightstand on what used to