As He Held My Hand

18. Planning

18. Planning

Gemma’s POV

“You’re still coming over for dinner tonight, right? Please don’t cancel, I’m making food and if you cancel it will have all gone to waste. Or I could eat it myself but then I’d get fat and ruin my beach body and please don’t do that to me, Gemma. Please don’t make me fat.”

“Grant, Grant! I’m not cancelling.” I laugh. “Thank God.” he breathes a sarcastic sigh of relief. “And I also have a question to ask you, and its important so don’t cancel. I’ll see you at six.” Grant says before hanging up, leaving me with a mix of wonder and dread pooling in my stomach.

I set the phone back in the holder and go upstairs to shower and change. I dress in a floral sundress with a baggy white cardigan and light brown ankle boots. Before checking the time to make sure I won’t be late, I grab my car keys and text Aunt Rebecca, confirming that I’ll be going over to Grant’s house for dinner.

I drive to Grant’s house, the road becoming familiar. Ever since I’ve decided to put my full trust in Grant, I’ve felt better about everything, including our budding relationship. I pull into Grant’s driveway and notice the Christmas lights have been turned on.

“Are you planning on keeping those on all year round?” I ask once I get inside. I peel my gray overcoat off and hang it on the coatrack near the front door. Grant rushes to my side to help me, taking it from me and draping it over one of the hooks. “Actually, that sounds like a good plan.” he says smiling. I flip my hair out of my sweater and follow Grant into the dining room, where three placemats have been set out.

“Three?” I ask, grazing my fingers along the top of one of the chairs. “Oh, my dad is eating with us.” Grant says from the kitchen. I make my way inside to see Grant is tossing a salad. “Mmm, it smells wonderful in here. Aside from the burning plastic smell.” I say, waving a hand in front of my face.

“Thank you, I was going for that ‘burnt-plastic-smell’. It really adds flavor.” he says, pouring in tomatoes and mixing them with the lettuce and chopped carrots. I laugh, walking around him to the other side of the kitchen. His kitchen window looks out over a grassy area. A wooden fence separates his yard from a field of wild grass dotted with flowers. Although the darkness creates a cover over the grass plain, I can still see it.

“It’s a nice view.” I mumble quietly. “Yeah it is.” Grant remarks sarcastically, glancing over me. “Shut up.” I say, grabbing a nearby dish towel and whipping him with it. “Ouch!” he pretends to be hurt, rubbing his arm where I hit him.

“Let me finish the food, or I’ll starve you.” he says darkly, pointing a wooden spoon at me. I push the spoon away. “Finish the food.” I laugh. I return to walking around the kitchen. The cabinets are dark colored with a light floor, and they wrap around the first half of the kitchen. On the other side of the kitchen, a pantry with a glass door is packed with food, surrounded by more cabinets and counter-tops.

I walk over to the refrigerator to look at the pictures held up by magnets. One is of Grant and his dad playing at the beach. Grant has a castle mold in his hand and he’s filling it up with sand, his father is crouched next to him and is smiling at the camera. But who’s taking the picture?