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Mandi and I share a look because this can’t be good. I don’t know exactly what this is, but I know it’s not good—for someone.
“Oh, Ethel, I didn’t know. I’m sorry. What is it?” Clara, always the polite one.
Grandma looks around the room until her gaze stays on me.
“Shit,” I say under my breath.
“My grandson, Xavier. A dinner with him. He’s the quarterback of the Kingsmen down in San Francisco. Come on, ladies. Now’s your chance.”
“Um… Grandma? May I?”
“Don’t be shy. Come on up and let them get a good look,” she says.
I look at Mandi, who can’t bite her lip hard enough to stop from laughing.
“Thanks for the help.” I stand and walk down the aisle.
“This is unusual, but let’s go with it. How about we start bidding at five dollars?” Clara says with the gavel in her hand, ready to point.
“Five dollars?” My forehead wrinkles.
“I’ve got ten.”
Clara points at a girl we went to high school with, then covers the microphone with her hand and says, “Stop complaining, your price is already going up.”
The bidding continues, and I’ll admit it feels good to be so wanted.
Then Dori, my grandma’s blue-haired best friend, raises her hand. “One thousand.”
“Whoa!” Clara points at her. “You’re the winner!”
“Isn’t there, like, a three-second countdown or something?” I ask.
“Nah, a thousand dollars is a big deal here, or have you forgotten?” Her sneer doesn’t go unnoticed.
I step down and walk over to the elderly lady. “Thank you, Dori. I have some bad news though. I only have this weekend available. Then I have to go back to San Francisco.”
“Perfect, let’s do it tomorrow night.”
Clara comes down and hugs Dori, thanking her for such a big donation.
“Oh please, with this heartthrob, I would’ve paid more. I got a steal.”
Just like my Friday nights back home, my evening is now booked with a date—with Dori Bailey.
8
“YOU TWO KISS AND MAKE UP?”
Clara
I cannot believe no one was available to take a picture of Xavier and Dori enjoying dinner together. My plan is to get pictures of each of the winners enjoying their prize to help with further fundraising down the road. Just a simple shot with a cell phone would’ve sufficed. I even asked Ethel, and she went on and on about how she can’t figure out these new cell phones for the life of her.
So as I walk into Northern Lights Retirement Center, I’m prepared for an ambush. I’ve seen every Greene sibling get manipulated by the grandmas and I’m not naive enough to think they don’t have a plan. I’m fully prepared to be locked in a closet or something with Xavier.
“Hi, LeeAnn,” I say to the receptionist.
“Oh.” She bolts up from her seat. “Ethel mentioned you’d be by.”
