Letters from Becca: A Contemporary Romance Fiction Novel Read Online Free Page A

kitchen.
    “Are you hungry?” he asked.
    Jessica gave him a reprimanding glare.  “Dad, you know what I mean.  I worry about you.”
    Amanda walked into the room, carrying the cat precariously, arms wrapped around and under Patches’ front legs.  Patches’ back legs nearly dragged the floor, and the cat wore a perplexed look on her face.
    “Worried that I can’t take care of myself after all these years?” he asked with a smile, patting his belly.  “I don’t look like I’m starving to you, do I?” He turned to his granddaughter, the cat wriggling in her arms, attempting to free itself.  “Does Grampa look like he’s missed many meals to you?” He reached down to tickle her tummy.
    “Not a chance,” she smiled.  Patches took advantage of his distraction, slid from Amanda’s arms, and scampered back to the safety of the desk, pressing herself firmly against the stairwell.
    “Your old Grampa can fend for himself,” he added, turning to his daughter.
    “Dad, you really should quit eating like this,” she remarked, holding up a can of soup.  “I think this is the soup I brought you when you had your gall bladder surgery.”
    John took the can from her hand and put on his reading glasses that had been sitting on the kitchen table, then looked at the label.
    “Dad, that was 1992.  It doesn’t even have an expiration label on it!”
    “Then it must still be good,” he grinned, setting it back on the shelf as she removed another can from the cabinet.
    “Dad, I don’t even think they make this kind anymore,” she argued.  He put back all the cans as she was taking them down.  She sighed.  “C’mon Daddy, let me make you something healthy for a change.  Let me and Amanda make you breakfast.  I have more groceries in the car.  I can make that chicken casserole you love.  You could have some tonight and freeze the rest.  I’ll just call home and—” she began, picking up his cordless phone to call her husband.
    John took the phone from her hand and put it back in the cradle.  “I know you and Amanda mean well, but I’m just fine.” He smiled the sincerest smile he could muster.  “Now, Jesse, I know old what’s-his-face is waiting for you at home this very minute and has his heart set on your homemade biscuits and gravy.” He picked up her purse and handed it to her.  “And heaven forbid I would take one morsel of your wonderful cooking out of my precious grandbaby’s mouth.” He walked toward the front door, past her and his granddaughter, who was sprawled under the desk, still trying to retrieve the cat.
    She paused for a moment to gather her thoughts.  “You’re frustrating.  You know that, right?” Jesse looked around.  “Amanda!  Time to go!”
    John smiled.  “Oh, Jesse.  I’m fine.  Now, how do you think I stay so well fed?  All the widows and divorcees on the block come by several times a week and snoop, like you do,” he lied.  “Then they feel sorry for me and cook me incredible dinners and fatten me up.” He was only mildly exaggerating.  “What do think they would say if they found real food in my cabinets?”
    “They’d think you had a family that cared,” she sighed.  “So you like appearing helpless?”
    “Makes them feel needed, you see?”
    A smiled crept onto her lips as she took her purse from her father’s hand.  “Amanda!  We’re leaving!” She turned to her father, “So, you’re doing this for them ?”
    “Absolutely!”
    “Right,” she replied sarcastically.  She spied her daughter’s legs kicking from under the desk and walked up to her.  “Amanda.  We need to go.  Leave that poor cat alone and come out from under there right now!”  Amanda simply giggled and kicked, ignoring her mother’s calls.  Jessica reached down, grabbed Amanda’s legs and dragged her out from under the desk.  Jesse lifted the child and patted her off, dust flying everywhere.
    “Dad, you really should let me get someone to come in