“Okay, fine.” Kelly tried not to sound too annoyed. “Peter and I are going to stay here for a while, if that’s okay. We can stay in the guest room downstairs.” She made it sound like it was a favor, rather than the truth that she was mostly staying here to make sure her grandmother wasn’t alone.
“That is acceptable. Now where is my new grandson?”
“He went over to his apartment to get his stuff.”
“He will be here for dinner?”
“Yes, I’m sure he will be.” Kelly cringed inwardly as she thought about eating dinner with Peter and her grandmother every night. That was sure to be awkward.
Maybe they could decide to go out to eat several nights a week.
***
When Peter had decided to use this opportunity to persuade Kelly to stay his wife longer than their agreed upon month and a half, he hadn’t counted on having her grandmother around all the time.
This was going to get old really quick.
He actually didn’t mind the old woman. She was crazy, of course, with her old-fashioned ways of thinking and talking, with her obsession with her family history, and with her collection of stuffed Siamese cats. But he’d always found her rather amusing. Plus, Kelly clearly loved her, and that was reason enough for Peter to think well of her.
But he hadn’t been living with her then.
From the moment he returned with his clothes and personal items, he couldn’t seem to get away from her in the house. Even when he and Kelly were alone in their room, unpacking and organizing space in the bathroom and closet, he was aware of Mrs. Beaufort’s presence. She was talking on the phone in the hallway right outside their door or puttering around in the garden, right outside the window to their room, or sticking her head into the room without knocking and asking Kelly to help her get dinner ready.
It was going to be a real challenge to romance Kelly with Mrs. Beaufort as an audience.
They ate dinner in the formal dining room, at a huge table that was way too big for the three of them. Kelly was unusually quiet, and her grandmother quizzed him the whole time on his plans for the future and why he was so foolish as to not allow his parents to help him get started in the hospitality industry.
Peter replied as politely and patiently as he could, and he knew he’d behaved well when Kelly gave him a sympathetic smile, as if she understood how hard it was for him and she appreciated the effort.
After dinner, they all went into the “parlor” to drink hot cocoa and amuse themselves before bedtime.
It was only seven-thirty. Peter desperately wanted a television or his phone or a book or something. Instead, Mrs. Beaufort dozed by the fire while Kelly studied for an exam.
Peter didn’t have any work to do for his classes. He only had two to complete before he graduated, and they were both general education requirements he could do in his sleep. He paced around the room for a while. Then noticed that the leg on one of the side tables was loose, so he fixed it, pleased with something useful to do. But, when that was done, he paced some more, moving between looking out of the window and studying the creepy members of the Pride, Mrs. Beaufort’s Siamese cats, which had each been stuffed and displayed upon dying.
He decided that he was going to have an early bedtime tonight. Maybe around nine.
“You can go the room and watch TV, if you want,” Kelly said, glancing up and noticing his fidgeting.
“No, it’s fine.”
“He’s a gentleman,” Mrs. Beaufort said from her chair. Her eyes were closed, and it was spooky the way she seemed perfectly aware of her surroundings, even in her sleep. “He won’t leave us yet.”
“But he has nothing to do.”
“Do you sing?” Mrs. Beaufort asked.
“No!”
“Play an instrument?”
“No, I’m not musical.” He managed to temper his tone, although he was startled by the idea of singing or playing for this old woman’s amusement.
“He could read a book out loud to us.”
“Grandmama,” Kelly said, a chiding note in her voice. “Don’t be silly. Peter doesn’t want to read out loud.”
“I could, if you really wanted me to.” He managed not to sound too unnerved by the idea.
“Please don’t,” Kelly said, meeting his eyes, a flicker of amusement in hers. “It would distract me from my studying.”
Peter sighed in relief. “Well, I don’t want to distract you.”
“Don’t you normally work out or run in the evenings?” Kelly asked, setting down her book. “Why don’t you go take a run or something?”
Peter glanced over at Mrs. Beaufort. “I don’t want to be rude.”