Read one of Susan's short romantic stories here:
Grandma's Ruse
By Susan Page Davis
This story was first published in the May 8, 2001 issue of Woman's World magazine.
"He's a nice young man," Grandma insisted, running water into the tea kettle. "He teaches English. You'll like him."
"No, I came to visit you, not to meet men. Let's just forget about it." Julie took two cups from the cupboard. She had carried her suitcase to the guest room and was looking forward to a relaxing week. Every summer she made the visit to Maine, and she always enjoyed it tremendously. It had shocked her a little when she saw how much her grandmother had aged since her last visit. Emma Wright was still active and fiercely independent, but her hair was snowy white all over, and she stooped just a little.
And she was determined to see her granddaughter settled. "Honey, just because you didn't like the dry cleaner last year, or the town clerk the year before …"
"Absolutely not," Julie said firmly. "I have one week to spend here, and I want to spend it with you. Nobody else."
Grandma sighed and set the cream pitcher and sugar bowl beside the bone china cups. "All right, if you say so. I suppose the town clerk was too old for you; I can see that now. But he is nice."
Julie smiled. "Yes, Gram, he's very nice. He's just not for me." She reached for the cookie tin. "Gingersnaps?"
"Of course. I always make gingersnaps when you're coming."
Julie kissed Grandma's wrinkled cheek. "We're going to have fun this week. What would you like to do?"
"Well, the grand opening for the new community center is tomorrow. I thought we might take a look. It's got a meeting room, and a library, and a gymnasium."
"All right." Julie took two linen napkins from a drawer and laid them on the blue and white checked tablecloth. "As long as none of your nice young men friends are expecting to meet us there."
"Oh, no, dear. It was the farthest thing from my mind." Emma glanced out the kitchen window into the backyard. "Oh, I see a baseball out there. That Jenson boy must have lost it over the fence while I was fetching you from the airport. Why don't you just run it next door, dear, while the water heats, and give it back to Billy?"
"Billy?" Julie asked.
"Yes, he's a particular friend of mine." Grandma's eyes sparkled. "He mows the lawn for me, and sometimes we share a cookie or two."
"All right." Julie went out the back door and scooped the ball from the neatly-trimmed grass beside the kitchen door, then let herself out the gate onto the driveway. Her grandmother had written several months ago that the Parkers had sold the house next door, and Julie hadn't met the new neighbors. She went to the side door and knocked briskly.
No one responded, so after a few seconds she tossed the baseball over the gate into the Jensons' backyard.
* * * * *
The next day Grandma and Julie went to the community center. Plenty of Grandma's friends greeted them, and she proudly introduced Julie to them, but no single young men came around for introductions.
"I'm a little tired, dear," she said when they got home.
"Would you like a nap?" Julie asked anxiously.
"Perhaps a cup of tea."
"I'll fix it. You sit down." Julie went to the sink and filled the teakettle. "What would you like with it, Gram?"
"A sugar cookie, I think."
Julie put the kettle on and took down the flower-sprigged china cups. "Grandma, I've been wanting to talk to you about something."
"What is it, dear?"
"My company's opening a new branch office in Portland. They've asked me if I want to move up here. I'd be a lot closer to you if I did. I could visit every weekend." She turned to face her grandmother, hoping to catch her reaction.
"Visit every weekend? You could do better than that. You could live here with me and commute. It would be wonderful!"
"Are you sure?" The thought had crossed Julie's mind, but she'd wanted it to come from Grandma.
"Of course! I do get lonesome sometimes, and, you know, I'm not getting any younger. Your father's been after me to move down near him and your mother, and I know they mean well, but I don't want to disrupt their lives."
"I had no idea."
"Do you really think you might move up here?" Grandma's eager hope was almost childlike.
"I'll give it serious consideration." Julie glanced out the window. "Oops, the baseball's back."
"Billy's ball?" Emma shook her head. "Would you, dear? And ask him to be more careful."
"At least he doesn't climb over the fence to get it when you're not home," Julie said.
"Oh, he wouldn't do that. He's very polite."
Julie let herself out the back door and picked up the ball. She looked toward the gate, then decided to do it the quick way. She tossed the ball over the fence and turned back toward the door.
Just before she turned the doorknob, there was a thud. The ball had landed on the turf beside her. She caught her breath and bent to retrieve it.
"Billy?" she called, turning toward the fence. "Billy, is that you? You should be more careful. You might hit my grandmother one of these times."
A thirty-year-old man stepped up to the board fence on the other side. He was tall enough to look over the high fence that blocked Julie's view of the Jensons' yard. He inspected her as she stood gaping.
"Sorry."
Was that a guilty look in his serious gray eyes? Julie swallowed hard. She had expected a scamp of a boy to respond to her warning, not an unnervingly good-looking man near her age.
"Uh, Mr. Jenson?" she managed.
"Yes." He was curious, a little wary perhaps.
She walked toward the fence, holding out the baseball. "I believe this belongs to your son."
His eyes flared. "My son?"
Julie cast a glance back toward the house, but there was no sign of Grandma at the window. "Yes, my grandmother said that Billy must have lost it over the fence earlier, and she—"
The man threw back his head and laughed.
Julie lowered her eyelids. "You're Billy, aren't you?"
"Emma Wright is the only one who can call me that and get away with it. I'm Bill Jenson. You've got to be Julie."
She nodded slowly. "She set me up, didn't she?"
"She's done this before?"
Julie hesitated. "Not exactly like this. She's getting more creative, I think."
His crooked smile set her heart pounding. "She told me about you. Wanted me to come over for supper tonight, but I thought that might be a little …"
"Oh, please," Julie protested. "No obligation. I came to visit Grandma. That's all."
He nodded, eyeing her tentatively. "Still, we'd hate to disappoint her, wouldn't we?"
"Oh, that's not a problem," Julie assured him. "I've tried to tell her I can find my own dates."
He laughed again and tossed the ball into the air, catching it easily. "What does she say to that?"
Julie grimaced. "She says she thinks I need a little help." She felt a blush coming on and said quickly, "She doesn't understand how it is nowadays. My job is very demanding, and I don't really have time to socialize much."
He nodded. "You're an engineer, right?"
"Well, yes." She took a deep breath. "Look, I'm sorry about this. I'd better get back." She turned away from the fence.
"Hey, wait, Julie."
She stopped and looked back.
"There's a play tonight, at the high school auditorium. My Fair Lady. Some of my students are in it. Would you and Emma be my guests?"
"Is this her idea?"
Bill shook his head. "No, it's mine. Look, I can see you're a little leery, but Emma isn't a bad judge of character."
"No," Julie admitted. "She tried to tell me about a friend of hers—an English teacher, I think she said. Coaches Little League."
Bill smiled broadly. "That would be me."
She nodded. "I told her to forget it, but …"
"Having second thoughts?"
"Maybe."
"Great. Shall I come over now and invite Emma to the play?"
"The tea's probably ready," Julie conceded.
"Fantastic. Any cookies?"
She tried to keep a straight face. "There are always cookies at Grandma's."
"I thought so, but I had no real proof. I'd better return her ball, while I'm at it."
"Grandma's ball?"
"Yeah, she asked me to show her how to pitch last month. Thought it might be good exercise, but I think it was a little too much for her. I was wondering why her ball kept showing up in my yard this week."
"So you just kept tossing it back."
"Right." He shrugged. "I guess she figured sooner or later, one of us would look over the fence."
Julie smiled, and realized he was watching her intently.
"Come on." She opened the kitchen door. Grandma sat at the table, humming as she filled a third teacup.
THE END
Copyright 2001, Susan Page Davis. No portion of this story may be used without permission from the author. |
