"I never said yes."
"An insignificant technicality," the beast insists.
"Wait a minute," I interrupt, "you're already engaged to someone else?"
"No. Not really."
"Yes, she is," insists Grandma, "I witnessed the proposal. Sorry, blubber, you're too late."
"BLOGGER."
"How are those eggs coming along? Don't let them get dry."
Ugh, the nerve of this woman.
I remove the pan from the fire and try to process what I'm hearing.
"Bea? Are you engaged to someone else or not?"
"No, of course not. He asked, but I wasn't interested."
"Who is he?"
"That's not important."
"Chris," Grandma volunteers, "and he's young, successful, and quite dashing."
Bea walks over and wraps her arms around me from behind.
"You know I love you. He's just an insignificant detail from my past."
"Show him the ring," Grandma suggests.
What a relentless woman.
"Wait, there's a ring? I thought you didn't accept."
"Ugh. It's in my dresser somewhere. He refused to take it back. This is the only ring with meaning," Bea says while showing the one I gave her. That's my girl.
"Well, I'll let you two work out the terms of your parting ways. I have work to do. You can come back and interview me at noon, blobber."
I sigh and count to five.
"What about your eggs, Ms. A?"
"I've changed my mind. Think I'll have a scone."
She gathers her newspaper and purse and leaves wearing a smirk.
I'm not sure what's going on. There are dozens of questions floating around my mind. I don't want to get into a big fight over it. If Bea wanted to be with Chris, she'd be with him. I can't let this old woman derail our affair. Fuck Chris and the white stallion he rode off on.
After breakfast, I head home to do some writing. Words are flowing nicely. I have little interest in interviewing Grandma, but I remember the wise advice in The Godfather: Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. I'll return for that interview and find the Achilles heel on that dragon.
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