I inhaled just as the doorbell rang. Momma’s brow wrinkled. “Since when has Meg rang thedoorbell?”
“It’s notMeg.”
“Oh, really?” Momma smiled before straightening the scarf on her head. “Is it thatboy?”
My cheeks warmed a little. “Yes.”
“I figured. Your momma can always tell.” She patted my leg. “He’s a sweet boy. Go enjoyyourself.”
______
“Shit,”Noahsaid.
“What?”
He snatched the keys from the ignition, hopped out, and hurried to my side to open my door. “It’s six thirty-five.”
“Yeah…”
“Grandma’s a stickler for being on time. And we’re five minuteslate.”
I couldn’t help but laugh a little as I followed him to the front of the house and through the door. The smell of fried chicken filled the air along with the sizzling and popping of the grease in thekitchen.
“God,” he sighed as he closed the door. “I love that smell… Grandma,we’re—”
“Late!” She popped around the corner, shaking a pair of tongs at him before glancing at me and smiling. “Nice to see you,dear.”
“Nice to see you, too, Ms.Greyson.”
“Doris. Call meDoris.”
I nodded, and she disappeared back into the kitchen. Noah rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m gonna go see if I can help her.” He arched a brow, a devious smirk playing on hislips.
“Alright…”
Smiling, I waltzed right into the kitchen. Doris had a hand mixer going full force, bits of potatoes flying out left and right. The motor quieted and she tossed the mixer on the counter before grabbing adishtowel.
“He’s always late. Always,” she muttered before spinning around to face me. “I raised him better than that. And he better be treatin’ you like a lady, opening doors andwhatnot.”
“Heis.”
She grinned. “He likes you.” She shuffled past me and set the bowl of steaming potatoes on the counter before grabbing a boiling pot of green beans. “But mind you, Noah ain’t never been in a committed relationship. Boy struggles with commitment. I blame his parents for thatone.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I just reached for the stack of plates on the end of the kitchen island.Thwap!She swatted me with the dishtowel. “Get on, now. You’re a guest, ain’t having none of my visitors setting outplates.”
Noah laughed from the diningroom.
“Now,you’rea different story.” She arched an eyebrow before shooing me through the doorway. “Noah, you can get your tail on in here and helpme.”
A smug smile spread over his lips. “You come around a few more times, she’ll have you helping out, don’t worry.” He squeezed my shoulder as he passed behind me and stepped into thekitchen.
I sat at the table, staring at the curio cabinet in the corner filled with figurines of clowns while Noah and his grandmother bustled around in the kitchen. There must have been fifty clowns in there, and the longer I stared, the painted-on smiles seemed to grow more sinister. I never understood why people thought those things were cute. They arehorrifying.
“Creepy as hell,huh?”
I jumped in surprise at the sudden sound of Noah’svoice.
“Stop that swearing, boy!” his grandmashouted.
