Page 96 of Dating and Dragons
Epilogue
Three Months Later
“Are you ready for this?” I ask Logan. Our hands are tightly clasped, and we have heavy bags slung over our shoulders.
“This is the most intimidated I’ve ever been,” he replies. “I hope they take it easy on us.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be by your side the entire time.”
I squeeze his hand for reassurance and then march us through the front doors of the Sunny Valley retirement community center.
Grandma is there waiting for us, looking as elegant as always in a pink blouse and scarf. “There are two of my favorite people!” she exclaims, and gives us both a hug. “I’m so excited for this—I’ve been telling everybody I meet that they need to come and spend the afternoon with my clever granddaughter and her handsome boyfriend.”
She ushers us toward a meeting room in the back. I waveto a few of the residents and staff I recognize as we walk by. My family visits Grandma here a lot, but we’re often in the community center instead of her residence because she’s too social to be home alone. Now we have a calendar on the fridge so we know when she’ll be in water aerobics, craft classes, or weekly pickleball games.
“I hope you don’t mind,” she says over her shoulder, “but a few more people said they were interested, and I told them they could join us. They don’t have a lot going on, so I hated to say no.”
She stops at the entrance to the room. Logan and I both freeze at the sight. Around the oval table, which was clearly made for card games or crafts—as opposed to fantasy role-playing—are no fewer than seven elderly people staring expectantly at us. I recognize some as Grandma’s newest friends—Janet’s wearing a sweatshirt with embroidered kittens on it and Carol’s crocheting at her seat, while Mitch is in a wheelchair with an oxygen tank. And then there’s Jim, Grandma’s flirtatious pickleball friend. He’s sitting ramrod straight with narrowed eyes, like he’s ready to take down whatever fantastical foe we throw his way.
Logan squeezes my hand tighter.
“Oh! Um, hi, everyone,” I say, and give a little wave.
“Hello, dear!” Winfred says. “I love that color purple on you. Very flattering. And who isthis?”
“That’s the twerp who can’t play pickleball,” Jim is quick to say. “Are you up for a rematch?”
Logan sets his bag on the table. “I’ve had some practice since last time. I think I could take you on.”
“I’d like to see you try.” Jim sniffs, but his eyes aresparkling. “Did you play anybody good? Other than Barbara and me?”
Logan and I both snicker. We’ve forced our friends to play a few games with us…and they beat us handily. But that might be because Logan and I kept getting distracted by each other.
“So, we’re actually still waiting on a few more people. We’ll be right back!” I say, and tug Logan back toward thehall.
“Don’t take long!” Carol says. “My daughter is tickled pink about this. She lives across the country, so she wants us to put it on the internet like you do with your game.”
“You know about that?” I ask while backing out of the room.
“Very entertaining way to spend a Saturday,” Mitch says. “Unless there’s golf on. I don’t miss golf.”
“Great, great. Logan and I are just going to…”
We duck out of the room and sprint down the hall until we’re sure we’re alone. We turn to each other with a mixture of horror and laughter.
“What have we gotten ourselvesinto?” Logan moans.
“And where are Kashvi and Sanjiv?” I pull out my phone. “I’m texting the group chat. We need Mark and Sloane to come for more backup.”
Quinn:SOS we need help. Free pancakes to all who can come.
Logan leans against the wall and pulls me into his chest. “I can’t believe we agreed to this. Maybe we should hide out here until the others arrive.”
I wrap my arms around his waist and relax into him. I can’t argue with more time alone with Logan. Over the pastthree months he and I have spent countless hours in his shed, working on this campaign and another we came up with, drinking hot chocolate, and (of course) taking breaks to visit SusieQ. She’s getting so big now. Between hanging out at his farm, at my house, and with our friends, we’ve spent more time together than I thought possible, but it’s still never enough. I don’t think it’s possible to get too much time with him.
I lay my cheek on the soft cotton of his shirt. “No, we can make this work. We’ll just…well, I guess we start by helping them create characters. And then maybe you run enough of the campaign today to allow the characters to meet each other?”
“Quinn, I can’t run this campaign.”