Cocky Cop_Wyatt Cocker by Faleena Hopkins

Author:Faleena Hopkins [Hopkins, Faleena]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-05-22T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 22

Wyatt

Grandpa Michael greets me at the door wearing grey slacks and a baby blue button-down, long sleeves rolled up his forearms. Age spots dot tanned skin, hair white and neatly trimmed. “Look at you in uniform. Should I be worried?”

“Everybody should be worried.”

He laughs and I walk into a bear hug, that ends with a few slaps on my back that I don’t return. Despite his being a virile old man, he is over eighty and I don’t want to be the one who puts him back in the hospital.

“Good to see you Grandpa. How you been?”

“Bored, if I’m honest.”

Grandma Nance strolls in from the kitchen wearing yellow pants, a white blouse and flats, her reading glasses perched on white hair she styles after the late Jackie Kennedy. Never use Onassis when referring to the former First Lady or you’ll hear a vehement, She may have loved him — I don’t know — but it’s John who is with her in Heaven.

Joining us in the foyer, she overhead what was said. “Michael, we just went to Vegas last weekend! And Hawaii two months before.”

“I prefer working over retirement, Nancy, you know that.”

“Blame your son,” she reminds him, referring to Uncle Justin’s success in putting a cap on term limits while he served as Senator. It put his Congressman father out of a job but was the right thing to do. If the President has limits to protect the people from corruption and too much power, then why shouldn’t that apply to our House of Representatives?

We embrace, the smell of lavender and lemon on her, familiar. “I was so happy to hear you were coming by. I can’t remember the last time you visited us alone.”

My cousin Ethan has lunches with them regularly. Now that he’s married and a father, his whole family comes. His sister Emma, too, sometimes. I’m sure Hannah does if they do..

Sure, we’re all here for our Family BBQs, and those happen often. But just me and them? She’s right. It doesn’t happen. I can say the same for my brothers and sisters, too.

Dad wasn’t close to the family when his service ended in the Marines. He and Mom had us four kids. We were an insular unit. Mom’s sister Kathy and her family would have us over for dinner, or we’d have them. Uncle Jake and Dad are close, and our families would blend. But I can’t remember a single time it was just our family and Grandpa Michael and Grandma Nance.

We head inside, Grandpa resting his hand on my shoulder blade. “How is it for you, Wyatt? Very dangerous?”

Grandma asks with concern. “Are you safe?”

“Of course he’s safe, Nancy. He’s the one keeping you safe!”

“All by myself,” I brag, which makes her laugh.

“I don’t know about that. I like to think I’m the only one keeping her safe,” Grandpa says, dropping his hand to take hers.

Her warm brown eyes shine with love. “You both protect me. How’s that? That make you feel better?”

“Say it’s just me.

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