What's Life Without the Sprinkles - By Misty Simon Page 0,22
shook for long moments. Then Fred rearranged his face into a look of mock severity, his blue eyes still twinkling with mirth. “Gotta decide between one or the other, my boy. Can’t have both, I don’t think. Though times may be different. But see that you start soon, sonny. You’re not getting any younger, you know.” With that bit of sage advice, Fred began walking up the length of his driveway.
The words, coming from someone who was old enough to be his grandfather, really got Nate in the gut. For all he knew, Fred would get married for the third time before he could even manage to walk down the aisle once.
“Have a great time on your date this evening, Fred,” Nate called as he watched the man who had been “advising” him since he was a snot-nosed kid running around with his friends on their skateboards. When this house had gone up for sale, Nate had been skeptical about living next to the old man, but it had turned out to be one of the best decisions of his life. “Keep an eye out for the ski bunnies for me.”
“I always keep an eye out for the ski bunnies,” Fred returned.
Nate saluted as Fred made his way back to his house, calling over his shoulder that he needed to get ready for his red-hot date at 4:30.
Fred was going to be right on time by Nate’s watch. And that also meant Nate had the whole evening stretched out in front of him.
Logan had a date with some girl, and Claudia had never picked up her phone when he tried to call this afternoon about Peter. His few close friends were on a slow-pitch baseball team together, and tonight was practice. He’d been asked to join but had turned them down because he’d wanted to be available if Justin needed him.
Okay, that was a little pathetic. Sure, he loved the little guy, but he didn’t need to be a doormat. This kind of thing had only happened over the last year or so, when Justin had started freaking Claudia out. It was right after they had moved out of Claudia’s mom’s house and into their own apartment with Zoe.
Fortunately, the phone chose that moment to ring. At this point he’d gladly talk to a telemarketer to get his thoughts off the path they were strolling down.
But he didn’t get there in time to answer. That just might have been divine intervention.
Because it wasn’t a telemarketer. It was his mom. “Sweetie,” she said in her harsh smoker’s voice. “Call your mama and your grandma when you get a chance. We have something we want you to do for us. You know how your grandma is, so call right away or the biddy won’t get off my back.” It sounded like she turned away from the phone; her voice got muffled and distant. “Yes, I called you an old biddy. Please don’t tell me you’re going to be ornery in your old age. Christ!” Now back to him. “Yeah, yeah, love from me and the old bat. Oops.” Then she laughed and hung up.
What a family. No wonder he’d never been in any huge hurry to invite anyone into it. Claudia and her whole crew from Zoe to May to Claudia’s parents were there by default since they’d been around forever, but inviting someone new in was always something to think long and hard about. They’d have to deal with his mom and his grandma, who he was pretty sure was Fred’s age, but, since every year her age went down a number or three, he could never be sure.
Stepping over some fallen toy soldiers and a handful of games spread out on the floor, Nate headed for the kitchen. He threw the mail on the table. The whole pile slid along the slick surface but stopped before completely falling off the table, joining others on the table. He wasn’t normally a slob, but with two jobs going on, he was busy. He really needed to clean this place up, and tonight was the perfect time. Though he knew Claudia and Justin were probably at the batting cages, he didn’t want to intrude. Justin seemed to have some stuff on his mind lately, and maybe he would talk to Claudia about it tonight in between swings.
For his part, Nate had no plans for the evening. It was still early, and he was going to be busy again come Monday. Especially since he