Swim the Fly by Don Calame Read Free Book Online

be Mrs. Hoogenboom, not Robert De Niro.”
    “Okay. Sorry.” I take a breath, resetting myself. “Oh, this old thing? I’ve had this shawl forever.”
    Grandpa Arlo smiles. “It suits you. It matches your eyes.”
    “That’s, uh . . . very kind of you . . . I . . .” I have no idea what else to say. “That purple shirt . . . looks good on you, too. It matches . . . the blood vessels on your cheeks.”
    “Nice,” Grandpa Arlo says.
    “What?”
    He pinches the bridge of his nose, scrunching up his eyes.
    “I told you I was bad at this,” I say.
    Grandpa Arlo opens his eyes. “So, Edith,” he says, “I was wondering if you might care to join me for dinner this evening?”
    “Oh, yes,” I say. “That sounds wonderful.”
    “No,” Grandpa Arlo scolds. “I told you to be evasive.”
    “Oh,” I say. “Right.” I swallow. “I . . . Um . . . No, I don’t think I can.”
    “I just thought it might be nice to get out of the house.”
    “I don’t feel much like going out.”
    Grandpa Arlo nods. “Okay, well. Maybe I could come over and cook my world-famous beef bourguignonne for you.”
    “Mmm, that sounds delicious. I’d like that.”
    Grandpa Arlo scowls at me.
    I wince. “But . . . I couldn’t.”
    “It’s my great-grandmother’s recipe. You’d really enjoy it. The meat just melts in your mouth.”
    “I see. Well . . .” Grandpa Arlo slowly shakes his head at me. “To tell you the truth, beef gets stuck in my dentures. I’d spend the entire night picking it out of my teeth. So, I’m sorry but I’ll have to say no.”
    “Can I at least invite you over to my house for some tea? I make a mean Darjeeling.”
    I look at my grandpa for some indication of how he wants me to answer, but he just stares at me all doe-eyed. I decide to continue along the same path. “No thank you,” I say. “I’m just not up to it.”
    Grandpa Arlo glares over the top of his glasses.
    “What?”
    “It’s
tea.
You’re telling me she wouldn’t even come over for a goddamn cup of tea. What am I, a leper?”
    “I was just doing what you told me. I thought you were going to keep trying.”
    “What the hell is there to try after tea?”
    “I don’t know,” I say.
    “Exactly. Which is why you should have accepted the invitation.”
    “Well, I’m sorry. But it’s not like you were very convincing. I mean, all you did was make the dates less and less interesting. Dinner out, a home-cooked meal, and then tea.”
    “I was trying to be nonthreatening.” Grandpa waves at the air. “You know what? Forget it. This was a dumb idea.” He storms by me and heads toward the kitchen.
    “Grandpa, wait. I’m sorry. How would I know whatMrs. Hoogenboom would say?” God, I feel terrible. “Grandpa?”
    But he doesn’t say anything more. He just turns the corner, and a moment later I hear his bedroom door slam.
    Part of me thinks I should go talk to him, but the other part says I’ll just make it worse. I have no choice but to leave it for now and get on with the rest of my workout routine.
    I kick my sneakers off and fling them into the coat closet with my toes. There’s a crash, and a bunch of canisters roll out onto the vestibule floor. It’s Mom’s latest NutraWorld containers, which she’d stacked at the bottom of the closet. I start collecting them up, when I notice that there are two different colored cans here, blue ones and red ones. The blue ones say NUTRAWORLD ORGANIC FIBER LAXATIVE and the red ones say NUTRAWORLD ORGANIC MUSCLE-BUILDING PROTEIN POWDER . Normally I don’t pay too much attention to the products Mom brings home, but this protein powder catches my attention.
    I grab a red can and read the back. It says how protein is essential to the building of muscle mass and that one NutraWorld shake a day provides all the protein you need. I’m sure Mom wouldn’t mind if I took one of the cans. They can’t be too expensive; I bet one week’s allowance will take care of it.
    I carry the