Chapter Twenty-Six PeytonWhen I walk into the kitchen, I can hardly see Gram through the enormous cloud of lemon-scented cleaning spray in the air. She’s been on a cleaning spree since the second she finished her coffee this morning.
“Hey there, Mr. Clean. Everything okay?”
“Fine, fine,” she mutters, giving the counter another wipe down, despite the fact that it’s already glistening. “Just getting things ready for when Duncan arrives.”
Since the doctors cleared Gram to only use her walker as needed, she’s spent nearly every waking moment on her feet.
“Let me get that.” I reach out to stop Gram from trying to lift a mop bucket full of soapy water.
“No, no, don’t worry about it. You go get ready.”
I scrunch my nose. Get ready? For what? I was kind of planning on rocking this yoga pants
