Monkey Wrench. Nancy Martin
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Rose sent Susannah a glance that was suddenly glimmering with purpose. “Maybe we should talk about you.”
“Me?”
“Joe, what do you think of a woman who is so busy being glamorous that she hasn’t time to find a husband and start a family?”
“Granny Rose—!”
“It’s a crying shame,” Joe said, laughing.
“I have spent a lot of time trying to find the right man for my granddaughter, but she’s very fussy, not to mention more disorganized than...” Rose snapped her fingers. “Good heavens! I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me before.”
“What are you talking about, Granny Rose?”
“You and Joe, of course. Despite some rather obvious superficial differences, I suspect you’d make a perfect couple.”
“A perfect—? Granny Rose!”
“Why, of course! Joe is so bossy and you’re such a fool with keeping track of things that...why, you’re ideal for each other!”
Joe began to laugh at Susannah’s expression—a pink-cheeked, blue-eyed combination of mortification and profound fury. The glamorous television star in her stylish beret looked appalled at the thought of being half a couple with a blue-collar carpenter. She swung on Joe with fire in her eyes, as if blaming him for the sudden turn of events.
Joe was still laughing. “It looks like your grandmother’s not the only one who resents interference, Miss Suzie.”
“I never—I didn’t—”
“Come inside, Joe,” Rose commanded. “I want you to get to know my granddaughter.”
It was a command Joe couldn’t resist. He stepped inside the house on the heels of Susannah Atkins, the most beautiful little hothead he’d ever laid eyes on.
“I DID NOT COME to Tyler to meet men, Granny Rose.” Susannah stepped inside the house and said vehemently, “I came to see you.”
“Well, you’ve seen me, and I’m fine, so you might as well get to know Joe.” Rose took Susannah’s coat and hung it in the closet.
Susannah suppressed a smile and kept her patience. Rose Atkins had always been a stubborn lady, and old age hadn’t changed that. “I know Joe as much as I care to know him—no insult intended, Mr. Santori—but I’m very concerned about you, Granny Rose.”
Rose kicked off her sneakers, turned on the heel of her woolly white sock and padded back through the downstairs hallway, calling over her shoulder, “No need to be concerned. I’m in tip-top shape. Joe, you can take that bag upstairs—that should keep you out of trouble for a few minutes. The first bedroom on your right. Then meet us in the kitchen for cocoa. Consider it a peace offering. Come along, Suzie.”
Amused and exasperated at the same time, Susannah looked at Joe, who was closing the front door. Tartly, she said to him, “This is starting to look very much like a wild-goose chase. My grandmother seems fine.”
Joe grinned. “Ornery as ever, huh?”
“She’s not ornery, she’s...” Susannah stopped herself. “Come to think of it, Granny Rose isn’t usually ornery.”
Joe jerked his head to indicate the kitchen. “Go talk to her. I’ll hang around upstairs and give you a few minutes together.”
“Thanks,” Susannah said, meaning it. “And, listen, about what my grandmother said—”
“About you and me?” With a laugh, Joe teased, “It’s an intriguing idea, isn’t it, Suzie?”
He had latched onto her nickname rather quickly, Susannah noted, feeling an absurd blush start. Hastily, she said, “Look, I’m not planning to get involved with anyone right now. I’m very busy, you see. I’ve got a lot of irons in the fire.”
“And no time for love? That’s a pretty sad commentary on your life, isn’t it?”
Susannah opened her mouth to protest. Joe sent her another of his dazzling smiles and proceeded up the curved staircase with her suitcase in hand. Susannah swallowed an infuriated growl and stomped after her grandmother.
In the kitchen, Rose was already puttering at the stove with a carton of milk, a wooden spoon and a box of powdered cocoa. She hummed while she worked. “He’s one of the most sought-after men in Tyler, you know.”
Susannah threw her beret on the kitchen table. “Granny Rose, you’re as maddening as ever!”
Laughing, Rose said, “Because I’m in the mood for cocoa? Or because I’d like to fix you up with Joe?”
“You’re always trying to fix me up with somebody or other. Why him, of all people?”
“Why not him?” Rose cried. “Joe is available, good-looking and well respected, plus he’s fun to be around. And he’s a real man—not one of those overgrown boys you see in the city. What more could a woman ask for?”
“A little culture, maybe? I like men who read books, not just use them to fix a wobbly table now and then.”
“Don’t be such a snob.”
“I’m not a snob,” Susannah replied defensively. “I simply know my own taste, that’s all. I like bright men with a certain amount of...of polish, I suppose.”
“Joe has polish.”
“I meant sophistication,” Susannah shot back. “Not something you rub into fine furniture.”
“That was the remark of a snob.”
Susannah slid limply into one of the kitchen chairs. “You’re right. I apologize.” She rubbed her forehead. “You caught me off guard, that’s all. This whole day has caught me off guard, as a matter of fact. I’ve been working very hard lately. I’m supposed to be going on my vacation tomorrow, but I’m more disorganized than ever. I guess I really do need some time off.”
Rose turned and leaned against the stove to look at Susannah, as if ready for one of their patented heart-to-heart talks. For a moment, Susannah felt as if it were twenty years ago, and that she was still a teenager confiding in her grandmother in the privacy of their cozy kitchen. The room was filled with the fragrance of fresh baking, and rows of cookies filled sheets of waxed paper on the counter. The shelves were lined with jars of fruits and jellies that Rose had painstakingly preserved the previous summer. Sheaves of dried herbs and flowers hung from the beams overhead, reminding Susannah that everything she had become—the cooking, decorating, entertaining expert of Milwaukee television—she owed to her grandmother, who long ago had taught Susannah gracious living and the value of hearth and home.
“It feels good to be home,” Susannah said at last.
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