Debbi Rawlins - The Swinging R Ranch

“How do you know about that?” Abby frowned. “You’ve been hanging around those women at the Swinging R again, haven’t you?” She grabbed the dish of M&M’s. “And no more of these. Doctor’s orders.”

“You have no business talking to my doctor, Abigail. No business at all. You forget who’s the grandmother here.” She shook her snow-white head and briefly eyed the candy before directing her stern blue gaze at Abby. “And don’t let me hear you referring to the ladies of the Swinging R as those women again. Shame on you. Why, Rosie, Mona and Candy have all contributed handsomely to your campaign fund, young lady.”

Sighing, Abby sat beside her grandmother and patted her age-spotted hand. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. It’s not that I don’t appreciate their support, but I don’t think it’s appropriate for them to be passing out gift certificates for future services at the Ranch.”

“Why not? The gift certificates are separate from the ‘Vote for Abby’ flyer. They’re stapled together but we were very careful not to make it sound like a bribe.”

“We? You haven’t been…Oh, Gramms.” Slumping, Abby dug into the bowl and popped candies into her mouth without regard to color. Why bow to superstition? Her career was probably over anyway.

Estelle chuckled. “You young people think everything is such a big deal, that the whole world is going to come to an end if one little thing goes out of whack in your life.” Her smile gentled, reminding Abby so much of her father that it made her chest ache with fresh grief. At forty-eight, her parents had been too young to die. But the driver of the speeding semitruck hadn’t taken that into consideration.

“I know you disapprove of the Swinging R,” Estelle continued, “but brothels are legal in this county and the place is practically an institution. Folks don’t mind having the ladies around. They’ve always contributed to the community just like everyone else.”

Abby decided to keep further comment to herself. There was no point in upsetting her grandmother. Besides, she really didn’t have anything against the Swinging R, as long as her grandmother didn’t start hanging around there too much. “I know,” she said, passing her two M&M’s. “And I’ll welcome each of their votes.”

Gramms frowned. “Don’t be stingy with those. You weren’t raised that way.”

“You know what the doctor said—”

“Abigail, you’re only twenty-six. How can you be such an old fa—?”

The phone rang, cutting off their conversation. Just as well, Abby thought as her grandmother pushed off the bed to get it in the next room. Abby had heard the admonishments before. Many times, in fact. She was too serious, too responsible, too staid for a person her age. Baloney. All of it.

Even if it were true, it wasn’t as if Abby had a choice. She was all Gramms had and someone had to look after her. Next month she’d be seventy without a hint of slowing down. That’s why Abby never bothered to get the phone anymore. It was always for Gramms.

“Some of the girls want to go play bingo tonight,” Gramms said as she breezed back into the room. “We’re going to grab a bite to eat on the way.”

Abby smiled, tucking her disappointment away. “No fries or cheeseburgers, and definitely no cheesecake.”

Her grandmother made a face. “I was going to ask you to come with us, but now I’m not so sure.” Her gaze strayed to the clothes spread out across the bed. Then her eyes met Abby’s. “Did you have plans for us tonight?”

“No.” Abby shrugged off the lie. “I’m just trying to decide what to wear tomorrow night.”

Gramms frowned at the selection, then went to the closet and pulled out the short red dress she’d given Abby last Christmas. “This is what you should wear. Not one of those old fuddy duddy navy or gray suits. Now let’s go.”

Abby took the dress and gave her grandmother a kiss on the cheek. “Go have fun. I’m still practicing my speech.”

Gramms waved a dismissive hand. “You don’t have to do that. You’ll beat old man Cleghorn just by showing up. No one wants that antiquated fool back in the saddle.” She put a finger to her temple, and lowered her voice even though there was no one else in the house. “His chimney’s been clogged for some time now, and he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed when he was in his prime, if you know what I mean.”

Abby wasn’t sure she did, but she knew better than to ask. “I don’t want to win by default, Gramms. I want to win because I’m the best person for the job.”

Estelle’s eyes widened. “Everyone from here to Las Vegas knows you care more about this town than a bear loves honey. Even when all your friends flew the coop after college, you came right back here. Not that I agree with your decision, mind you.” Gramms gave her that gentle smile again that made Abby’s heart constrict. “No one here doubts your ability or your loyalty, Abigail. And when you win, it isn’t going to be by default or because your name is Cunningham.”

“Thanks, Gramms.” Abby sweetly smiled back. “But you still aren’t getting any more M&M’s.”

Estelle’s smile faded and she snorted. “Don’t buy the peanut ones anymore. They get in my dentures.”

“Good. Don’t eat them. Now, outta here. The girls are waiting for you.”

Gramms hesitated. “You’re sure you don’t want me to stick around and help you?”

“Nope. I’m just going to putter around a bit. Maybe take a nap before dinner. I made a casserole. Enough for three nights. Later maybe I’ll have time to bake a batch of cookies for your bridge club meeting on Sunday.”

Estelle frowned. “There’s something very wrong with this picture. It’s Friday night. You should be going out.”

Abby gently took her grandmother by the shoulders, faced her toward the door and walked her out of the room. “I’m doing exactly what I want to be doing.”

“Taking care of me?”

Abby grimaced at her grandmother’s weary tone. “Don’t say it like that. You hardly need a baby-sitter. I’m just a homebody, Gramms—I always have been. You know that. Now, go have fun. But don’t stay out too late.”

She hesitated again, and Abby had to give her another nudge before she grabbed her patchwork purse off the hall table. “You know I’ve loved staying with you here in your daddy’s house, don’t you, honey? And how much I’ve treasured our time together?”

Abby reared her head back at her grandmother’s serious tone. “You’re not leaving me and getting married or anything, are you?”

“Oh, good Lord, no.”

Abby had been teasing. Sort of. Gramms could be awfully impulsive at times. “Nothing’s going to change,” Abby assured her, realizing she was probably worried about their time together being upset by Abby’s job. “You’re not losing a granddaughter. Hopefully you’ll be gaining another mayor in the family.”

Oddly, Gramms didn’t look pleased. She merely stood motionless for a long moment, staring back with an uncertainty that made Abby uneasy. “Well, I’d better go. You know how I hate being late.”

“Gramms? Is there anything you want to tell me?”

She pushed open the front door and paused. “Just that I love you. And there’s nothing in this world I wouldn’t do for you.”

Despite the lingering summer heat, Abby walked out onto the porch, watched her grandmother climb into her car and waited until the blue sedan had disappeared behind the hedges of pink oleander that lined the end of their driveway.

The feeling that something wasn’t right stayed with her long after she’d returned to her room, selected an outfit, decided on a hairstyle, taken a nap and had some dinner. But it wasn’t until she went into Gramms’s room to get her laundry basket that Abby understood why she’d felt uneasy.