20 Questions

Chapter 123

Friday was a good day. My shift and the rides to and from work were otherwise uneventful so Hunter agreed to the pool party. I didn't understand his reluctance at first because we love get-togethers, but I eventually discovered that he's worried the two groups won't play well in the sandbox together. I think he's overreacting. I don't foresee any issues.

He and Elijah are getting the pool cleaned up and the cornhole boards set out so I take Griffin with me to the store to get food and party supplies. I'd rather run errands with my husband, but since he's currently unavailable, Griffin will have to do. I'm copacetic with that because he and I have a lot of fun together. As we walk up and down the grocery aisles, throwing random stuff in the cart, I notice Griffin is a little off today. I doubt he wants to talk about it, but I also doubt that I'll give him a choice. He sticks a little closer to me today, not even allowing me to go by myself to another aisle while he was reading the back of some package. He's barely speaking to me. Not to mention, I've had patients with bowel obstructions that have grunted less than he has today. I'm unsure if they got new information on Hunter's father, if he is just concerned about another attack happening on his watch or if he is having some personal issues, but he's a lot clingier today.

Only one way to find out.

"What's up with you today?" I ask, pulling the package out of his hand that he has been studying for a solid five minutes.

"Nothing," he grunts, not making eye contact with me, but snatching the package back and putting it on the shelf.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Jenna. I'm fucking sure."

"Geez, ok. You don't have to be a dick about it," I snap back.

Somebody is in a mood today. He rolls his eyes and turns to push the cart, but I run around in front of it and obstruct his path. He swings it to the left and because I'm a brat, I shuffle my feet and create a roadblock. He huffs and puffs as I grin mischievously back at him. Unfortunately for me, Griffin is not in a playful mood or on board with my pranks. The only game he's currently interested in playing is running me over with the Kroger cart like an annoying speedbump.

"What are you doing?" he asks, all broody and disgruntled.

"I'm gonna stand in front of this cart until you talk to me about whatever it is that's bothering you."

"I said I'm fine. Now move, so we can get back home and get ready for this joyous occasion."

"Aaahhh," I say, pointing at him. "Somebody's not excited about the pool party."

"No, not at all."

"Why? You got something against chlorinated water and tiki torches? If you don't want bratwurst, I can get you some regular hot dogs or even some that have cheese in them."

He doesn't want to smile, but he also can't avoid my stupid taunts all day. The corner of his mouth lifts slightly, but he rolls his eyes.

"Got ya, big boy," I laugh. "Don't think I didn't see you smile."

"I didn't smile," he lies. "You're seeing things."

"Yeah, seeing you smirk at me. Come on, Griff. We don't keep secrets, remember? Friends tell each other stuff."

That comment didn't please him and he swerves the cart around me, leaving me trailing behind him like a fart. I hope he doesn't think he's getting off the hook that easily. When his pace slows, I put my hands on his shoulders, leap up and wrap my legs around him for a piggyback ride.

"Little girl, what are you doing?"

"Riding you like a race horse," I laugh.

He stops walking, his body tenses and he shifts his head to side-eye me. "Don't say stuff like that," he snaps, wiggling to get me off his back.