“That’s cool. I’m in the middle of my U.S. tour, and I’ll be on the road for the rest of the summer.” He grabbed Ethan’s hand and gave it a vigorous shake. “And thank you, Mr. Wright.”
“I can’t make any promises,” Ethan said. “Like I told you before, I’m not sure if I can help.”
Jeffrey gave him a signed copy of his latest CD, which Ethan accepted, although he doubted he’d be listening to Wang-It anytime soon. Or ever.
“I appreciate anything you can do,” he said. “And if you need anything from me, tickets to my show, backstage passes, you just say the word.”
A few hours later, Ethan steered his Audi TT down his grandmother’s street. He spotted her in her front yard, and the results of Tia Gray’s handiwork still threw him. His grandmother had eschewed her familiar pastel dresses for jeans, T-shirt and red Converse sneakers.
He parked his car at the curb in front of the wood-framed cottage. A closer look revealed the words Recycled Teenager emblazoned across the front of his grandmother’s T-shirt.
At least she appeared to be acting like her old self, Ethan thought. He was relieved to see her watering the vibrant blooms of the well-tended garden and gabbing with her friend and next-door neighbor Alice Fenton. He hoped it was a sign that Tia Gray had done as he’d asked and his grandmother was slowly returning to normal.
“Hello, Warden. Thought you’d be packing for Hawaii.” A smirk accompanied his grandmother’s greeting. “I didn’t realize you’d be making evening rounds.”
Ethan ignored his grandmother’s sarcasm. Instead, he leaned over to plant a kiss on Miss Alice’s upturned cheek. “Don’t you look pretty today,” he said.
His grandmother’s friend smiled broadly and smoothed the yellow housedress, similar to the ones his grandmother preferred until Tia Gray’s disastrous makeover, with a wrinkled hand. “This old thing. I’ve had it forever.”
“You have a similar dress, don’t you?” Ethan asked his grandmother.
“Not anymore,” she replied. “I donated it, and every dress in my closet that looked like it, to the church clothing drive. Why? Considering instituting a dress code here at Shawshank?”
Ethan sighed. “I’m merely checking on you.”
“Humph,” she grunted. “More like checking up on me.”
“After the other night, can you blame me?”
“Well, you can relax. After I finish tending my flowers, Alice and I are going to make popcorn and watch a DVD.”
Alice frowned. “But what about the motorcycle...” she began.
His grandmother turned to Ethan. “We’re watching Easy Rider,” she said by way of explanation.
Ethan shoved his hands into his pants pockets. There was no way to bring up the topic of Tia casually. He might as well just come out with it.
“Have you talked to your friend Tia, from the spa, lately?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I have. She’s invited me out for breakfast tomorrow.”
Ethan felt some of his unease ebb. It appeared Tia had taken the matter as seriously as he’d hoped and was indeed on the case. Maybe he’d be able to relax and enjoy his vacation after all.
His grandmother raised a suspicious brow. “Why?”
Ethan shrugged and diverted his eyes.
“I hope you didn’t track her down and bully her into it,” his grandmother said sternly.
“We just had a chat.”
“Oh, Ethan, you’re becoming more like your grandfather every day.” She rolled her eyes. “Bless his heart. He’s no doubt in heaven right now exasperating the good Lord with his bossy ways.”
“I’m not bossy. It’s just all these sudden changes since your spa visit. I’m worried about you.”
His grandmother groaned. “I swear, I wish you’d get back together with Britney or Tiffany or whichever one of your dull, fill-in-the-blanks girlfriends you were supposed to take on this vacation with you.”
“Heather?” Ethan asked, slightly taken aback. “But you said she was all wrong for me.”
“The women you go out with usually are. They’re like those obedient, bland robots on that old movie we watched last night.” She turned to Alice. “What was the name of it again?”
“The Stepford Wives?” Alice asked, unsure of her memory.
“That’s it,” his grandmother confirmed. “‘Yes, Ethan.’ ‘Great, Ethan.’ ‘Whatever Ethan thinks is best.’ ‘I’d better ask Ethan,’” she mimicked before she and Alice burst into a fit of laughter.
There was nothing wrong with dating an agreeable woman, Ethan thought, but he didn’t bother pointing that out to his grandmother.
However, with Heather, sweet and easygoing had morphed into pushy and demanding once she discovered their relationship wasn’t moving any closer to marriage, motherhood and a suburban mini mansion.
Finally, the cackling subsided, and his grandmother turned her attention back to him.
“At least those bubbleheads kept you occupied. You didn’t have so much time to stick your nose in my business.” She brandished her index finger in the vicinity of his chest. “Go talk to the last one. Maybe y’all can kiss and make up before your flight in the morning. You’ll have a life of your own again, and then you can stop riding my ass, and—”
“Grandma!” he cut her off. This had to be more of Tia’s handiwork, he thought, because his grandmother had rarely sworn before her mess of a makeover.
Alice covered her mouth to stifle a giggle.
Ethan captured the hand of his grandmother’s wagging finger with his own and kissed it. “You know full well why I worry.”
She patted his cheek. “As you can see, I’m fine now.”
Ethan watched her check her wristwatch on what she thought was the sly. What was she up to now?
“I’ll be out with Tia in the morning, so I won’t see you before you leave,” she said, the words coming out in a rush. “Give me a hug now, and enjoy your vacation. Think about giving what’s-her-name a call.”
As Ethan hugged his grandma, he made a mental note to change his morning flight to one leaving tomorrow evening.
His grandmother was up to something—and until he was assured she was back on track, he wasn’t going anywhere.
* * *
Tia smiled when she saw Carol walk through the restaurant entrance the following morning.
Although her friend’s grandson had been the impetus behind asking her to breakfast, Tia looked forward to chatting with the woman who’d helped her get through the most difficult period of her life.
After yesterday’s blowup with her dad over Espresso’s financial woes, she was especially glad to meet with her.
The two women greeted each other with a hug, and Tia was gratified to once again see the expertise of the spa’s staff in action.
Carol had done an excellent job of re-creating her new look on her own. She’d applied her makeup with near-expert finesse and even customized the pixie haircut they’d given her with a few gelled spikes. She wore a denim skirt, a black T-shirt emblazoned with the name of a sixties band and a pair of wedge sandals.
Tia glanced down at her own linen-blend shift dress. It had seemed chic and summery when she’d donned it this morning, but now it felt positively