The Boss Project

Merrick shook his head and dragged a hand through his hair. “That’s Kitty. Takes care of everyone else, but doesn’t prioritize herself.”

“Yeah. My grandmother was the same way.”

“Is she in two casts?”

“One hard cast and a removable boot for the sprain. She’s not happy about it. If there’s any kind of saw in the garage, we should probably hide it. I wouldn’t put it past her to try to take it off herself.”

“Good idea.”

Over his shoulder, I noticed Merrick’s briefcase sitting near the front door, but when I glanced around the room, I didn’t see any suitcase.

“Where’s your luggage?”

“It didn’t make the flight to Atlanta. The connection was too tight. Hopefully it will show up tomorrow.”

“Oh, that stinks. Well, my suitcase is in the guest room, but I’ll move it out and stay on the couch after I finish this wine. You must be tired from all the traveling.”

“You’re not sleeping on the couch. I’ll be fine right here.”

Kitty’s two-bedroom house was small, and so was her furniture. I eyed the tiny sofa. “You won’t even fit on that thing.”

“I can fall sleep anywhere.”

I looked around the room and sighed. “It feels so strange to be here and not be able to go next door. It’s the first time I’ve been down here since my grandmother’s house sold. I’d rented it for two years after I moved because I wasn’t ready to part with it yet.”

“I’m sorry. That must be hard.”

I smiled sadly. “At least I have a lot of good memories. Your grandmother used to come over and sit on my grandmother’s porch every night after dinner. When I was working on my PhD, I practically lived at the library. Sometimes I’d come home at ten or eleven, and the two of them would still be out there, laughing their asses off and often loaded on spiked sweet tea. They used to drink it out of mugs so the neighbors would think they were drinking regular tea. I’d walk Kitty home and make sure she got inside alright, and she’d twist my arm to have a goodnight shot of whiskey with her. Then I’d go back next door, and my grandmother and I would sit outside a little longer on the porch.”

Merrick smiled. “I was eight when my grandmother gave me my first taste of whiskey. I remember my mother being pissed.”

“The new owner took down the treehouse in the back. I loved that thing.”

“I remember the treehouse. I was in it a few times.”

“You were?”

“Yeah, when I was a kid and I’d come down to visit my grandmother, sometimes I’d go check it out when they were sitting around on the porch. I remember it had a lot of pink in it—pink plastic refrigerator, pink pillows, pink frilly lampshade, even though there was obviously no electricity.”

I smiled. “That was all me. I hadn’t honed my decorating skills yet.”

“Wasn’t there a poster of some boy band, too?”

“Not a boy band. Burt Reynolds.”

“Burt Reynolds? The old actor who died a while back?”

“Yep. I had a major crush on him. He was the voice of the German shepherd in All Dogs Go to Heaven. I loved that movie and his voice. I watched it over and over again. One day my mom and I were in some store, and I found an anniversary movie poster of Burt Reynolds in Smokey and the Bandit. I made her buy it for me. I thought he was so good looking.”

“Ah… So this is a pattern for you,” Merrick said.

“What do you mean?”

“Finding older men attractive. I do have three years on you, you know.” He winked.

I snort-laughed. “It’s funny how we both spent so much time here, but never ran into each other.” I shrugged. “At least I don’t think we did. To be honest, I don’t remember too much before the age of ten.”

“How come?”