TweetyGram

28 - #TweetyFox

"I can't believe Jake is afraid of mice," I said, wiping tears of laughter from my eyes.

"Oh, believe it, darling," Grandma C replied. "Once, Mr. Biggles, may he rest in peace, caught a mouse and put it right outside Jake's bedroom. Do you know what he did when he saw it?"

Jake's eyes widened with panic. "No, no, Grandma, please—"

"He peed his pants!" Grandma C said, and I broke into a guffaw.

"I was three years old!" Jake argued, but I still couldn't stop laughing. Burying his face in his hands, he groaned, "Oh, God, this is a nightmare."

Throughout the dinner, Grandma C told me many interesting—and mostly embarrassing—stories about Jake. By now, I was 99% sure she saw right through Jake's lies, and this was her way of punishing him.

I had no idea why Jake had even thought he could fool the kind woman in the first place, but boy, was I glad he'd asked me to be his fake girlfriend.

Tonight was one of the most pleasant nights I'd had in a long time. Grandma C really was the world's sweetest grandma, and by the time the dinner was over, I found myself wishing I'd been her granddaughter.

"The two of you take care of each other, alright? I'll visit again soon." Grandma C stopped by the door and glanced at my stomach. "And I'll bring something for the baby as well."

Shoot. I almost forgot about that.

A ball of anxiety rolled around in the pit of my stomach, and a nervous laugh slipped from between my teeth. "Can't wait."

Jake and I plastered a grin on our faces as we waved Grandma C goodbye. Once the door was shut and we were the only people in the room, I shot Jake a death glare. "What the heck was that?"

His eyes widened for a moment. Avoiding my gaze, he spun around and scurried toward the kitchen. "If you're talking about that sperm story, then I swear I didn't know she would bring that up."

"Oh, you know that's not what I'm talking about," I argued, chasing after him. "I'm talking about your freaking imaginary baby!"

He let out a nervous laugh. "It works, doesn't it? She's going back to Boston tomorrow."

"Yeah, well, what are you going to do when she flies here seven months from now and finds me with a perfectly flat stomach, huh?"

"Relax. I'll tell her you lost the baby."

I gasped in horror, annoyance swirling in my stomach. "You're going to blame me for the death of our imaginary baby?"

He pushed his lower lip forward and shrugged. "We can always try to have a baby for real."

My mouth fell open so wide I heard my jaw crack. He didn't just suggest we have a freaking baby—a living breathing human being—just to fool his grandma, did he?

"That's a joke," he stuttered, blinking rapidly. "It's a joke, okay? It's a joke."

I released the breath I'd been holding. "It's not funny."

"I know, I know." He scratched the back of his head, an awkward apologetic look on his face. "I'm sorry."

I put my fists on my hips and huffed. "What the heck were you thinking?"

"Well, I . . . I just . . . I . . ." He ruffled his hair in frustration and plopped into one of the chairs at the dining table. "You heard my grandma. When I was about to start chemo, the doctors told us I might not be able to have kids. Something about bad sperm or whatever. So when Grandma mistook you for being pregnant, I thought . . ." He heaved a sigh. "I don't know. I guess I just wanted to prove to her that I'm perfectly healthy now and she doesn't have to worry about me anymore."