MissBEHAVED

“Why don’t I just head to the store early and grab something to eat on the way?” I suggested, wanting to spare my grandmother any awkwardness, but he shot that idea down immediately.

“Your grandmother owes you an apology for trying to force Jessica on you when she knows you’re not interested. Plus, the gossips will have a field day if you show up at the diner to pick up food when everyone knows we always have lunch at home after church. Be here at noon.”

With his final command lingering in the air, he slammed the door and stomped into the house to do what he viewed as his duty as the man of the house. He never hurt me, at least not more than a sore ass, and he always made sure I understood exactly why I was getting a paddling. I wasn’t worried about my grandmother being all right. It wasn’t fun, but it wasn’t the end of the world, either, and Gram would lay off my dating situation for a few months afterward at least. Or so I hoped.

I pulled the car into the garage and walked up the exterior stairs to my apartment. It might seem odd that I still lived on my grandparents’ property, but there weren’t a lot of rental options in Walker’s Grove and the hardware store was just a few blocks away. Plus, I paid rent, so it really was my place, even if it was way below market value.

Normally, I’d quickly change out of my suit and head right over to the main house to help with lunch, but I took my time today, making a cup of coffee and relaxing on the couch after I changed into my work clothes. Working in a hardware store allowed me to spend most of my time in jeans and a t-shirt with the store’s name across the back. If I had to meet someone important, I also had a polo shirt with the name much smaller on the front.

It was unusual for me to have a free moment on the weekend, so I sat and enjoyed the quiet. Saturday was our busiest day and yesterday hadn’t been an exception. Even though it was the middle of January, things still broke, and with all the farms that surrounded Walker’s Grove, something always needed to be fixed. And with the big-box hardware store a half-hour away, most locals preferred to run into town to get what they needed. Gramps and I made sure to stock all the common tools and parts you’d need on a farm, so unless it was a specialty item, we probably had it.

The sound of multiple cars driving down Main Street let me know service at the Baptist Church had let out, so it had to be eleven-thirty. Walker’s Grove boasted three churches, a lot for a small town, but we drew people in from the surrounding hills and farmland. My family attended the mainstream Methodist Church, which was the largest congregation. Next in size was Catholic St. Mary’s, which also had an attached elementary school. The smallest, and most intense, church was the old Baptist Church. They didn’t used to be nuts, but a few years ago they got a new pastor who held some extreme views about the world and a vendetta against the local motorcycle club. I tried to avoid Pastor Brown whenever possible, but when he came into the store, I had no choice in the matter. Though I did my best to get him whatever he wanted as quickly as possible before he went on one of his infamous fire and brimstone rants about the state of the world and scared my other customers away.

After a few more minutes enjoying the silence, I rinsed my coffee mug and set it next to the sink, then started putting on my outdoor gear. I loved the snow, you had to if you lived here, but it was a chore keeping track of all the gloves, hats, and scarves needed to keep warm.

Once I had all my layers on, I locked up since I wouldn’t be coming back inside before leaving for work. On the way to my grandparents’ house, I shoveled the dusting of snow that had fallen since the morning and threw down some more salt. One of my biggest fears was that one of them would fall and be unable to get up while I wasn’t home. I’d love to tell them to stay inside all winter, but that wasn’t going to happen.

I checked my phone to confirm that it was noon before I opened the door. No way did I want to walk in on my grandmother’s discipline. It wasn’t that I didn’t agree with it because I did and wanted that in my own relationship, I just didn’t need to see or hear any part of it. That was private, and I owed my grandparents the respect of not intruding, just like they’d do for me once I had a woman. The problem was finding one who would agree to the kind of relationship I wanted.