Page 34 of Mountain Bean Dream
“Whew.”
“When did you find the time?”
“It’s a cheat. I make a batch of dough and freeze it, scooping out what I need. There’s no need to make forty-eight cookies when I only want two or three.” Or a half dozen, depending on the timing of my monthly cycle.
“Freezer foods for the win.”
“Always.” I grabbed my keys, purse, and phone. “I’m ready now.”
“Jacket?”
I grabbed one of my longer ones from the coat hook and put my good arm through it while struggling to cover my shoulder.
“Please, allow me,” he said, pulling it on properly and holding it in position so I could pull out my trapped hair.
“Thank you.”
I locked the door, and he matched me step for step overto his truck, helping me in. Once we were seated with the truck rumbling beneath us, we were off.
“So, tell me about your grandma. What should I know? What should I avoid saying?”
Not so long ago, when meeting an ex-boyfriend’s best friend, Adesh hadn’t warned me that his friend was a stay-at-home dad. As the conversation progressed, I made a comment about how it must be nice to not have to work, staying in your jammies all day while watching TV. Needless to say, I was educated—and right quick!—and that pretty much ended our relationship as Adesh couldn’t believe I’d been so uncool. Fine. Lesson learned.
“She’s a feisty lady. She owned the motel and ran it until her health deteriorated. No one was interested in taking over, and I didn’t want some random stranger to have the place, so I bought it from her.”
“That’s pretty cool.”
He snorted softly. “I didn’t know at the time how much of a money pit it is. She hadn’t invested in it for years, and it’s bleeding cash.”
“Good thing you’re a fixologist then.”
A sly grin pushed out his cheeks. “I suppose so.”
“Jeremy Wentworth, Motel Owner and Fixologist.”
“I should get business cards made.”
“You totally should.” I leaned back into the seat smiling as we exited the road leading to the motel and turned onto the highway. “What else should I know?”
“She’s nearly eighty, so she tuckers out easily, and sometimes she gets short-tempered, but don’t take it personally. That’s when I know it’s time to say goodbye.”
“Being that old would definitely wear a person out.” I couldn’t even imagine being alive that long. All the things she would’ve witnessed, all the technology changes, and theadvancement in health care. Kind of astonishing to think about. “Anything else?”
“Don’t mention anything about the weather. She goes off on a tangent.”
“No weather, got it.” I smoothed out my skirt and tucked my hair behind my ear.
“She’s easy to get along with, don’t let my comments make it seem like she’s an old bitty or anything. Oh, and one final thing, despite years of corrections, she calls me Jimmy.”
I nodded, unsure of what I was getting into.
After signing in, we entered the Lodge to a bright sunny room filled with the fresh scent of fragrant flowers. Overhead, classical music played but it wasn’t Beethoven or Mozart, rather it was contemporary music; a classical version ofVampireby Olivia Rodrigo.
“There she is,” Jeremy said, putting a spring in his step and beelining straight to an older woman in a wheelchair, staring out the window.
“Jimmy,” she said, perking her head up.
I looked around, wondering who she was referring to, until I remembered that’s what she called him. Giving them a moment, I approached slower while I shook out of my jacket. Standing back, I took in the frail lady with thinning blonde hair and a pallid complexion who stretched out to accept a kiss on each cheek. Heads bowed together, she whispered something to him.