Page 21 of The Ruse of Romancing

Mason

There was a major, gaping flaw in my master plan to befriend Dani. I had no way of accidentally running into her in town without someone blowing my cover.

I’d been all ready to casually run into her at the bakery or bookstore or grocery store.

I probably could have even figured out a way to make the thrift store work, but when I’d spotted her through the window of Sugar and Sea, I’d realized there was no way for me to interact with Dani without Joane seeing me.

And I knew better than to think Joane would help with my deception.

The struggle followed me home and continued to nag my thoughts as I talked to the internet company (who wouldn’t be able to send anyone out until Wednesday) and as I attempted to work on Spencer’s commission (which was a terrible idea when I was so distracted).

The problem haunted me up until the moment my grandparents knocked on the door of the duplex before letting themselves in.

I’d lost track of the number of times I’d asked them not to walk in, though knocking was at least progress.

And I couldn’t get too frustrated with them.

They did make it possible for me to live on the Oregon coast rent free.

I just worried that if I wasn’t able to start making a livable wage with my designing, my days on the Oregon coast were numbered, lasting only as long as my grandparents wanted to continue owning the duplex.

I was just grateful they had yet to walk in while I was entertaining any of my female guests.

It was better for everyone that they hadn’t met any of my tourist flings.

Well, any of them except for one. I’d introduced them to Rebecca, before I knew better than to let a summer tourist into my life and heart.

It was a mistake I wouldn’t be repeating.

“What are you guys doing here?” I asked as I pushed up from the couch where I’d been aimlessly drawing shapes on my tablet, trying to find a solution to my Dani problem.

I hurried to grab Grandma’s arm to help her to a seat.

Grandpa shuffled in behind her. They both wore blue shirts and matching smiles.

The fact that my grandparents wore matching outfits most days had been a source of much entertainment for me and my brother Grey throughout most of our childhood.

I’d have to see if I could sneak a picture to send to him before they left.

I’d also point out that their white hair was starting to look more and more similar, Grandma’s hair seeming to get shorter every time I saw her.

Grandma pulled me into a brief, surprisingly firm hug before releasing me and settling onto the couch.

She’d fallen a few days ago, giving us all a scare, though she claimed to be fine despite a slight limp.

Grandpa assured me he was watching her like a hawk and had promised to call me if anything else happened, but I still worried.

Grandma’s fall had brought home the fact that my grandparents were getting older in a way I wasn’t fully prepared to grapple with.

What would I do when they were no longer here, stopping in without warning and cheering on my art?

“You cut your hair,” Grandma said, giving me a cheeky smile that reassured me she was fine in ways her words never could. “It’s about time you listened to me.”

“You finally wore me down,” I said with a wink, sitting in the armchair across from her. Grandpa settled next to Grandma on the couch, interlacing his gnarled fingers with hers.

My grandparents were the picture of everything a couple should be.

Not that I had plans to settle down, but if I ever did, I wanted my relationship to look just like theirs when I was old and gray.

It was how I imagined my parents would have been had my dad survived long enough to reach old age, instead of being stolen from our family by an unexpected heart attack.

“What brings you out this way?” I asked, one of my knees bouncing as I waited for their response.

While they occasionally stopped by without a reason, more often than not, they came for a specific errand: telling me about the renovations they wanted to do next door, discussing changes to the landscape schedule, dropping off the world’s ugliest chair to add to my living room because it fit the aesthetic.

I was currently sitting in said chair and, while the plaid pattern was genuinely one of the worst design decisions I’d ever seen, it was unexpectedly comfortable.

“Can’t we just stop in and say hello?” Grandma asked as Grandpa released her hand and leaned forward in what I’d come to identify as his “business” position.

“You’re always welcome to stop by,” I said, the tempo of my leg increasing as I waited.

“Well, since you brought it up, we just wanted to check to make sure you had everything handled with the current tenant. Where she’s staying long-term, we know it’s a different scenario and requires a bit more from you than what we’ve asked for in the past.” Grandpa’s voice was gruff and serious.

Though he’d never say it, I could hear in his tone his doubt in my ability to be responsible enough to keep a guest happy for several weeks as compared to the usual guests who typically only stayed for a week at most.

“I’ve got it handled, Gramps, I promise,” I said, forcing my leg to still as I smiled and did my best to convey calm control.

Sometimes I wondered if Grandpa still saw the little kid I used to be when he looked at me, instead of the grown man who was making his way in the world. Or at least trying to.

“Oh, we know you do,” Grandma said with a wave of her arm. “But we also know that sometimes it’s nice to have additional help and support. You know, your grandpa and I ran this place together. Doing it alone is a lot.” She arched an eyebrow, and I read her not so subtle message loud and clear.

They’d feel better about me running things if I had a significant other to help, someone to add what my grandma regularly referred to as a “woman’s touch.”

“I’m not interested in dating seriously, Grandma,” I said, hoping to nip this direction of conversation in the bud before it got out of control.

“I know you say that, but I can’t help but wonder. Grey’s so happy now that he’s got Audrey, and I know there’s someone great out there for you. You can’t let what Rebecca did—”

“Grandma,” I said, cutting her off before she could wander too far down memory lane. Those memories were better left forgotten and ignored, not rehashed and unleashing the loneliness and self-doubt they triggered. “I’m working on my art. I don’t have time for a relationship.”

“There’s always time for a relationship,” she muttered under her breath, crossing her arms over her chest.

Grandpa stood, walking over to me and placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder, clearly understanding me better than I realized.

“Your art is important and we’re so proud of you for all you’ve been able to do so far. It would just be a shame if you let what happened in your past keep you from chasing happiness in your future.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, as I placed a hand over his.

He gave my shoulder a squeeze before shuffling back over to the couch.

“Anyway, tell us about this internet issue? Anything we can do to get it fixed faster?”

Thankful for the change in topic, I quickly jumped into an explanation, realizing as I did that I still needed to write Dani a sticky note letting her know the repair would happen in a couple of days.

My stomach dipped at the thought of interacting with Dani again.

I really needed to figure out a way to see her again as Allen. My non-romantic future depended on it.