Grandma's Advice

The strange energy racing beneath my skin wasn't painful.

It wasn't even unpleasant.

That was the problem.

It felt too good.

Too alive.

Like electricity and sunshine and every embarrassing thing a woman should not be feeling over a man she'd spoken to exactly twice.

"Nope."

I covered my face.

"No."

Absolutely not.

I was thirty-four years old.

Not fourteen.

Not sixteen.

Not some teenager losing her mind over a pretty smile.

I was a grown woman.

With bills.

And a bad knee.

And cholesterol.

I knew better.

Or at least I was supposed to.

But the harder I tried to breathe...

The more I remembered being fourteen.

---

I was mad.

Not regular mad.

The kind of mad only teenage girls and betrayed cats could achieve.

Mama had picked up husband number two.

And I hated him.

Not disliked.

Hated.

The man wore enough cologne to kill small animals and looked at women like he was doing them a favor by breathing in their direction.

Which, in my opinion, made him a nasty old pervert.

I sat beside Grandma Mae on the porch shelling peas with enough attitude to power a city.

"Men are stupid."

Grandma chuckled.

"Mmm."

"I'm serious."

"Mmm."

"They ruin everything."

"Mmm."

"And I ain't ever getting married."

That got her attention.

Grandma looked over her glasses.

"No?"

"No."

"Well."

She shelled another pea.

"That's certainly one way to do things."

"I mean it."

"Mmm."

"I'm gonna be a spinster."

Grandma burst out laughing.

Not a polite laugh.

Not a little giggle.

An honest-to-goodness cackle.

"What?"

"Honey, you are fourteen."

"So?"

"So you ain't old enough to know what you'll want for supper tomorrow, much less who you'll love."

"I'm never loving anybody."

"Mmm."

"And if men are all like Mama's, I'd rather die."

Grandma smiled softly.

"Baby, no bad man is entirely bad."

I frowned.

"What?"

"And no good man is entirely good."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"It will someday."

I scowled.

"Sounds stupid."

Grandma chuckled.

"Most truths do when you're fourteen."

I crossed my arms.

"So what are they?"

"People."

She shelled another pea.

"Some men are kind."

"Some ain't."

"Some are honest."

"Some lie."

"Some are brave."

"Some are cowards."

"And most are a little bit of all of it."

I frowned.

"Then how are you supposed to know?"

Grandma smiled.

"Know what?"

"Which one's good."

Her smile softened.

"Honey, that ain't the question."

"It isn't?"

"No."

She shook her head.

"The question is whether they're the right man for you."

I rolled my eyes.

"That sounds hard."

"It is."

"No wonder Mama keeps messing it up."

Grandma fought a smile.

"Your mama rushes."

"Well, I won't."

"No?"

"No."

"I'm not risking it."

Grandma chuckled.

"Life don't usually ask permission."

"Then life can get over itself."

She laughed.

"Honey..."

She stood and gathered the bowl.

"If they are..."

"And you don't try to rush it..."

She smiled that funny little smile she got when she knew something she wasn't sharing.

"You'll know."

I groaned.

"That sounds way too hard."

"No wonder Mama keeps messing it up."

"I'd rather just not risk it."

Grandma chuckled and started toward the house.

Then she paused.

Turned around.

And grinned.

"It helps if his name starts with an E in my experience."

I blinked.

"What?"

But she just winked.

And disappeared into the house laughing.

Leaving me completely confused.

---

"Ruby!"

I jumped.

The kitchen came rushing back.

Dani stood in front of me.

And all the color drained from my face.

Because Dani wasn't annoyed.

She wasn't amused.

She looked scared.

"Ruby?"

Her voice had gone soft.

"Honey..."

She stepped closer.

And her blue eyes widened.

"Oh sweetheart."

I frowned.

"What?"

Dani swallowed.

"Your face."

"My face?"

"You look like you've seen a ghost."

I blinked.

"What?"

"Ruby..."

She reached out and took my hand.

And for the first time in twelve years...

Dani looked genuinely afraid.

"Honey..."

Her voice nearly broke.

"Are you alright?"