Page 9 of If It's You

Christian flexed his forearms beneath the table. He wasn’t skin and bones. Sure, he was technically still a teenager but only for a few more months. “Yes, ma’am.” Christian took the offered plate.

“I told you to call me Grandma.” She said with a stern frown.

“Sorry, Grandma.” He smiled at her. Her bossiness reminded him of his own grandma. He missed her. It had been seven long years without her hugs and famous applesauce on homemade bread.

“Did you hit any coons last night?” Jayce’s grandpa joined him at the table.

“Nah, they were all hiding,” Jayce said as he poked around in the cupboard and came up with some fruit loops.

Is he really going to eat fruit loops and doughnuts?

“Back in my day, I could have caught one with my bare hands.” Grandpa wrung the air in his fists.

“Me too.” Grandma rolled her eyes.

Christian chuckled at the interaction between the two of them. Last night they had entertained Christian with farm stories until well past midnight. Grandpa Jay had laughed at his own tales until he could barely breathe and tears replaced his words.

“Morning, Grandma.” Maizie walked into the house. She was dressed in tight jeans and a t-shirt, but her hair still held the curl from last night, and she wore it in a high, almost feisty-looking ponytail.

Now that Christian knew what she looked like dressed up, he’d never be able to unsee it.

She embraced her grandma and grandpa and snatched a doughnut from the pile.

“I had to come get a doughnut before Jayce ate them all,” Maizie said. She pushed Jayce, and some milk spilled out of his bowl.

“Hey!” Jayce put his bowl down on the table and pulled her into a headlock while giving her a noogie. “Watch it, short stuff.”

“I’m not scared of you, doughboy.” Maizie rubbed his stomach like the doughnut had already given him a belly.

“Okay, cut it out.” Grandma swatted them with a newspaper.

Maizie pulled back and fixed her ponytail, and Christian unwillingly noticed the muscles working in her arms.

“Here’s some milk.” Grandma placed a cup in front of him and all eyes fell on him.

“Thanks.” He picked up the cup and eyed Maizie and Jayce, who wore matching expressions of interest.

He took a long swig and swallowed. Then immediately gagged. Was there grass in his cup?

Maizie and Jayce snickered.

“What was that?” Christian sputtered.

Grandpa’s bushy gray eyebrows narrowed. “That, my boy, is real milk. None of that pasteurized crap from the store around here.”

Christian looked in his cup again. There was cream floating on the top.

“Do you have any 2%?” He asked, taking a bite of his sweet doughnut. How did they drink that terrible stuff?

Grandpa let out a hearty chuckle. “You know why they call it 2%, right?”

He shook his head. He’d never thought about it, he just knew it tasted good. Not like whatever this was.

“Because only 2% of the jug is milk. The rest is water,” Grandpa said with intense seriousness.

“Really?”

“No, you dummy.” Maizie chortled and everyone laughed. Everyone except Christian.