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I turn around to face her, and she eyes me suspiciously above the rim of her cup. “I’ve been coming here for fifteen years, give or take, Mrs. Smith. I know where things are already. I can find pretty much everything here.”
Lucille puts down her cup on the coaster and taps her fingernails on the wooden table. “Do you, now? Then why can’t you find the balls to confess to her?”
I sigh. I walked in on that one, didn’t I? Yes, she knows I have feelings for Allie, and no, I have no idea how she found out. “I don’t know what you mean, Lucille.”
“Do not call me Lucille. I’m Mrs. Smith to you. Until you marry my granddaughter, you will only ever address me as Mrs. Smith.”
“You told Kevin to call you Lucille,” I tell her as I sit on the chair on the opposite side. I try to maintain a safe distance from her every single time. The woman hates me, and if I’m being honest, she terrifies me too. Who knows if she wants to fling that cup into my face?
“Who the hell is that?”
“The football guy who carried Allie home after she sprained an ankle.”
Lucille gets this dreamy look on her face, like she’s twenty again. “Ah, that hot guy who was as wide as my door. Too bad he was blonde.”
“He was also a dick.”
“The only thing men are good for.”
I choke on my tea. “Gee, thanks, Mrs. Smith.”
She waves me off and motions to the door behind her. “A hinge on the bathroom door keeps creaking at night. I need you to fix it for me.”
“Maybe it’s the ghost of your past coming to haunt you.”
“Look at you, cracking jokes, thinking you’re funny.” She plants both palms on the table and sneers. “You know what’s funnier? You still being in the friend zone after all these years.”
Damn. This woman is cruel. She really knows how to hit me where it hurts. “Fine. I’ll look at it.”
Lucille nods like she fully expects me to cower before her. To be fair, it’s hard not to get scared around her. Allie definitely takes after her grandmother. “Have I ever told you, Tristan, that I was named after B.B. King’s guitar?”
I snort. “No, you weren’t. You’re older than him.”
She points at my chest and scrunches her nose. “Now this is why you don’t get anywhere with Allison.”
“And yet you insist on calling me for every minor inconvenience. You know I have work, right?”
“Who else would I call?”
“Johnson is right across from you, and he’s always waiting for you to notice him.”
Lucille scoffs and rolls her eyes. I swear this woman has more sass in her pinkie than anyone I’ve ever met. “He’s younger than me. I don’t like younger men.”
“He’s 85.”
“Younger than me by five years. Besides, he walks like his balls hurt.”
Where the hell is Allie and what’s taking her so long?
“No offense, Mrs. Smith, but you walk the same way.”
“Yeah, ‘cause I got brass balls. They’re heavy. You wouldn’t know.”
I finish my tea and massage my temples. “It’s not easy, you know, confessing to Allie.”
“Hence why you walk like that. You got raisins for balls.”
“Can we stop talking about balls? My balls in particular?”
