Secret Grandpa

by Rob Warr

Chapter 2

"I figured it was you," Myra chuckled, "Look, I have a meeting in fifteen minutes but I'll be free by five. Why don't we meet for coffee at that Starbucks by your house?"

"Sounds like a plan. Or...I could treat you to dinner again..."

"Sadly, I already have plans, but I will take a raincheck. I'll have just enough time for coffee and our talk, then I have to be somewhere."

"Oh, anyone I know?" I teased.

"I doubt it," she said with a chuckle, "I do have needs though, and since you're all about friendship I have to look elsewhere to satisfy those needs."

"Oh, well..." I said blushing at her bluntness. I understood though, I had needs too, but my hand was just fine for the time being.

I really didn't see Myra in that way, and feared that sex would only muck up the friendship we'd cultivated over the last year or so.

"I'm sorry, that was crass of me," she said before I could go on.

"No, you're absolutely right, you do have a right to see other guys and have, umm, some fun." I was glad she could see me because I had to be at least as red as the tomatoes in my kitchen window.

"Look, I need to run, but I'll meet you there, okay," she said to my relief.

"Okay, see you then, Myra, and...thanks."

"No problem, Rob. Later."

I still had a few minutes to kill so I changed from my jeans and flannel shirt to a pair of Dockers and a plaid button up with that polo pony guy on it. I slipped on a pair of Hush Puppies next, brushed my teeth, and checked myself in the mirror. Not bad for a guy my age, I decided, not sure why I felt the need to look good for Myra all of a sudden. Was I jealous that she was seeing some other guy and maybe hooking up, as the kids liked to call it? Nah, we were just friends, and I was happy for her, or so I told myself.

The drive took all of five minutes once I was out of the neighborhood and I only had to wait another ten for Myra's little Toyota to pull into the slot beside me. I got out and met her at the driver's side door and we exchanged a hug and she kissed me on the cheek.

"You look nice," she said, "are you seeing someone, too?" she teased.

"I always look nice," I said grinning, "you just never noticed before."

"Oh, I notice," she chuckled, "come on, I'm buying," she said taking my arm and leading me to Starbucks.

We ordered and found a seat, and as we sipped our lattes she filled me in on what she'd found out.

"Name is Timothy Andrew Johnson, mom, Freida, father, Thomas, deceased. Until just recently Timothy was attending Eisenhower Elementary using his grandmother's address. His grandmother, however, had to be placed in a retirement home, so Timothy was transferred to Kennedy.

You were correct in assuming they lived in those apartments, Juniper Hills, but I don't know if they'll be there much longer. Apparently they are behind two months' rent and have been given ten days to vacate. Thus the reason their utilities are turned off, since the apartments are all bills paid."

"Isn't that illegal, turning off the utilities when the weather is this cold?"

"It's a borderline issue, if someone pushed it, they could probably get that reversed, but let's face it, in ten days they're gone anyway."

"Doesn't the mom work?"

"She worked at a truck stop diner until about a month ago, but was fired because she had trouble getting to work on time. Apparently her ten year old Ford gave up the ghost and you know how unreliable mass transit is in a small town like this. She applied for SNAP, what used to be called food stamps, and has been getting a few groceries from a church nearby, but she doesn't qualify for disability or any other program. She's applied for Child Welfare, but the process is slow."

"Damn, how much does she owe in back rent?"

"Glad you asked, I actually called the apartment manager, and at first she was reluctant to answer my questions until I told her who I was, and why I was inquiring. Seems the Johnsons are in arrears for 850 dollars, that's two months plus a 25 dollar penalty for each month."

"So, her rent must be around 400, pretty cheap, but I guess that's relative to how much a person makes, or in her case, doesn't."

"Right, there are programs that can help families like the Johnsons, but by the time they took any action they'd be out on the street or living in that car, that is if the apartment complex doesn't have it towed away."

"Damn," I said, "It always comes down to money, doesn't it? Every abused, neglected kid has to deal with poverty and hunger too. Not to mention the parents. And in this case it sounds like the mom is trying, that she's just a victim of bad luck and circumstances."

"Yep, so...what are you thinking?" she said, knowing me all too well.

"Well, if money is the only problem for now, that can be remedied rather easily."

"Uh huh, by who?" Myra said, but she knew who.

"Look, I'm not Rockefeller rich, but I'm pretty much set for life. The problem is: how to do this without hurting Mrs. Johnson's pride or making things worse. Actually, I see this as a three step process, first: make sure they have a place to live, second: make sure they have food and necessities in the meantime, and three: get the car fixed or replaced and Mrs. Johnson working again."

Myra laughed, "Oh, is that all?" she said sarcastically.

"Yep, easy peasy," I said grinning.

"Well, I'm not as financially set as you, but I bet I can raise a few bucks among my fellow staff members, and maybe even get the PTA to hold a fundraiser."

"That's great, that will help with steps two and three, meanwhile, I'll take care of step one."

We parted with another hug and kiss and I teased her as she got in her car, "Have fun, but don't do anything I wouldn't."

"Well, since I don't know what you'd do, I'll have to wing it," she laughed.

"Just be careful," I said seriously, "lot of nut jobs out there."

She laughed, "This nut job is a professor at the university, I think he's okay."

"Good to know," I said grinning, "so...it's a working date?" I teased.

"Oh, we'll be working all right," she said winking, "I gotta go, see you later, Rob, and just in case I haven't ever told you before, you're one in a million."

"You too," I said blushing, "talk soon," I added as I closed her door for her.

It was too late to take care of the back rent, since most apartment offices closed at five, so instead I decided to do some grocery shopping.

I can't explain my rationale but I just needed to do something, and it seemed like a good idea at the time. I bought bags of cereal, a gallon of milk, bread, chips, cookies, canned soup and boxed mac n' cheese, the good kind, not the powder, and everything else I could think of that might be easy to fix, filling, and nutritious.

I passed the lunch meat counter and threw in baloney and ham, some hot dogs, then realized they might not even have condiments for those things and made a trip down that aisle. I'm sure I forgot something, but the basket was full, and I decided to go with what I had. I could always come back for more.

But what if Mrs. Johnson wouldn't accept my kind offering? Well, I guessed I could keep part of it for when Timmy stopped by and give the rest to the local food bank. However, putting myself in Mrs. Johnson's shoes I couldn't imagine refusing food when I knew my kid was going hungry.

At home, I separated the groceries into perishable and nonperishable, bagged and refrigerated the former and boxed up the latter. Then I fixed myself a light supper, watched some TV and went to bed early. I couldn't help but think of Timmy as I lay there waiting for sleep. He was so cute, so sweet, and he'd suffered so much. Why was life so hard for some people and a breeze for others? Well, Timmy's luck had changed if I had anything to do with it, and I couldn't wait to get started.

The following morning I was up by eight, fed, showered, and out the door by nine thirty. The drive took only a few minutes, and though I really wasn't worried that things wouldn't work out, I was still a bit nervous. I didn't like confrontation, never had, but when I got worked up I could be a force to reckon with.

The lady behind the desk looked to be in her mid twenties, was slightly overweight, but had a pretty face and a nice smile for potential renters. Her name plate said: Jenna Ellis-Manager.

"Good morning," she said, "may I help you?"'

"Yes, may I sit down? This might take a while."

"Of course, what can I do for you?" she said, sounding a little pensive now.

"I understand you have a tenant, Mrs. Frieda Johnson who is behind in her rent and in danger of being evicted."

"Oh, her. What, does she owe you money too?" she scoffed.

"No, but if she did I'd be a bit more understanding than your company. Sometimes people fall on hard times and they need our help, not our condemnation."

"Well, you see...I really don't make the rules..." Jenna stammered, "the home office has strict rules, and we usually don't let a tenant get that far behind...so actually we did her a favor..."

"Are you aware of why she is behind? Are you aware that she lost her job? Do you know that she has no vehicle at the moment, no income at all, and a ten-year-old son to provide for?"

"Well, sure...but that's not something I can fix..."

"No, I guess not. So, the bottom line is: what will it take to make sure the Johnson's aren't evicted and that they continue to live here, as long as the rent is paid on time?"

I could see the gal relax then, this was easy. Home office would love it if she could get the books cleared and avoid an eviction.

"Well, let me check..." she said typing in something on her computer, "The Johnsons are in arrears 850 dollars, but the next month's rent is due in two days."

"How about this: I pay the 850 dollars and three months rent in advance? Surely by then Mrs. Johnson can get her car fixed or replaced and find employment again."

"That would be just fine, sir," the woman said, all smiles now, "but if you don't mind my asking, why are you doing this? Is she a friend?"

"Let's just say, I'm doing it because I can, and because it's the right thing to do. And for the sake of that ten-year-old boy."

She smiled, "He's a cute kid. Kind of sad looking, but I suppose he has good reason. Now then, will you be paying by check or credit card?"

I shoved my Gold Card across the desk and she raised an eyebrow but didn't speak. She made some entries on the computer, swiped the card, then printed out the receipt and handed that and the card to me. $2050.00 later, that part was done.

"I understand that you have cut off the utilities to the apartment and I don't need to remind you that that's illegal, but if they are restored today I won't press that matter."

"Are you an attorney?" Jenna smirked.

"No, but I can have one here in ten minutes if I need to," I said smartly, finally tired of her attitude.

"That won't be necessary, if you'll give me a minute I'll call maintenance and have it restored immediately."

I sat while she made the call, and when she hung up she gave me a fake smile and assured me that the water and electricity would be back on within the hour.

"Thank you, Ms. Ellis," I said offering my hand, "you've been very helpful, do you have a business card, in case I need to contact you again?"

She handed me a card from her desk drawer, I thanked her once more and started to leave. Then turning back to her I said, "Can you please tell me how to get to her apartment?"

"Yes, of course...she said grabbing a copy of a printed map from a stack on a table behind her, "it's 201, bottom floor, just around the corner from the office, facing the pool, good location..."

I thanked her again and left this time. Good location? No doubt roach and bedbug infested, crime ridden, and probably a dump to boot. No, this was not a good location, especially for a growing boy, but it would have to do for now.

A soft knock on the door brought no response at apartment 201, but a louder one brought forth a voice from the other side.

"Go away, we still got five days left," a distraught voice announced.

"I'm not here about that," I said loud enough for her to hear, "I'm here to help."

Curiosity must've gotten the better of her because suddenly the door opened just a crack, the security chain still in place.

"Hello, Mrs. Johnson?" I said giving her my best smile, "Timmy's mom?"

"You know my Timmy?" she said looking worried, "Is he all right, what's happened to him?"

"Nothing ma'am, Timmy is fine. I just know him from the neighborhood. See, my house is right on his way home from school and we've talked a few times..."

"You, you're the one been feeding him?" she said, not as an accusation, merely stating a fact.

"Yes," I chuckled, "he's a good kid, and sometimes we share a snack and talk."

"Just talk?" she said suspiciously.

"Just talk," I assured her, "look, why don't you let me come in and we can talk. I'll explain as best I can. I do have some good news for you."

Suddenly a light flashed on inside and she jerked her head around to see all the lights in the apartment had come on.

"Praise God, the electricity is back on," she muttered, then putting two and two together she said, "you had something to do with that, didn't you?"

Before I could answer, the chain was removed and the door opened wide.

"Well, come on in," she said, "it ain't much, but it's home. I'd offer you something to drink but all we got is water, that is if it's back on too."

"It should be, Mrs. Johnson," I said smiling, "and your back rent is paid, as well as the next three months."

I let that hang there for a moment, her eyes daring me to say I was joking or perhaps to hear the catch.

"But why? Heaven knows I ain't got nothing you'd want in return...oh, no, not Timmy, you're not one of those men who wants boys?" she said looking ill.

"No, I assure you. My interest in Timmy is strictly platonic. I love kids, but never had any of my own, and well, the kids in the neighborhood have sort of filled that gap."

I explained how Timmy had come to be noticed, about the teasing and the interactions we'd had over the past week or so. I confessed to feeding him and even sending food home with him, and I saw her face go from shock and fear to sadness.

"Ain't right that I can't provide for my own son, but everything I do seems to turn to shit lately. The car breaking down was the last straw, and it's been downhill from there."

"What's wrong with the car, is it fixable?" I asked.

"The maintenance guy here looked at it and said it needed a new serpentine belt, whatever that is, and the garage wants 400 dollars to replace it."

"If that's all it needs, I know a mechanic who can do it for a fraction of that."

"Don't matter, I ain't got no money, and even if the car was fixed, can't afford insurance or gas for it."

"Well, I can help with that too. The important thing is to get your car running again and find you a job so you can get back to taking care of you and Timmy."

"Why, why are you doin' this?" she asked again, tears glistening in her eyes.

"Think of it this way, if you were able to help someone get back on their feet, especially someone with a boy as wonderful as Timmy, what would you do? Would you help them, or let them wind up on the street...or worse?"

"I'd help, of course," she said, "but you don't know me from Adam, why me?"

"Well, originally I set out to help Timmy, but I soon found out that there was much more to his problem than just an empty tummy. So, I guess you could say I started doing it for him, but once I heard your story, it became about you, too."

"How can I ever repay you, though?"

"Don't, pay it forward instead. Do you know what that means?"

"Sort of, like help someone else when I can?"

"Yes, if everyone lived that way, well, the world would be a whole lot better place."

"I don't know what to say, except thank you. Mack at the diner said I could come back to work if I got my car fixed. It don't pay that well, but the tips are good, and I get free food while I'm working."

"That's a start, maybe you can look for something better once you're back on your feet."

"I guess I could," she said sounding excited for the first time.

"Meanwhile, I hope you don't mind, but I've taken the liberty of buying a few groceries for you and Timmy to tide you over. I was thinking when Timmy stopped by my house, as he always does, he could help me load them up and I could bring him and the groceries to you. Would that be all right, for Timmy to ride with me?"

"I don't see how I can refuse," she said, "the last of the food stamps are gone and there ain't much left to eat. That's why I didn't make no fuss when I found out you was feedin' my Timmy. "

"He gets breakfast and lunch at school, right?"

"Yes, thank Heavens, otherwise he might starve."

"Excellent, well...I should go. I have some things to take care of between now and the time Timmy shows up. I'll call my mechanic friend and have him drop by to take a look at your car. He does repairs out of his van once he has the parts."

"I don't know what to say, it's like a dream come true..." she stammered, "Thank you, thank you, you're a wonderful man. No wonder Timmy thinks so highly of you."

"He's mentioned me?" I said, surprised that he would be so open with her.

"We don't keep secrets, and it seemed safe enough. I mean, you're right there in plain sight, it wasn't like you was trying to lure him off somewhere."

"Yes, my neighbors know me and trust me with their children. In a way it's like I'm the neighborhood grandpa," I chuckled.

She laughed, "And you like that, don't you?"

"I love it," I said grinning.

I finally made my exit, but not before I received more thanks and praise.

I called my mechanic friend first and he was having a slow day and agreed to swing by and take a look at Mrs. Johnson's car that afternoon. The insurance was no problem, whatever company she'd used before could easily reinstate her as soon as her car was running again. I hoped and prayed that there wasn't anything more wrong with it than the belt, but I figured we'd cross that bridge when we came to it.

I called Myra to fill her in and she was as happy as I was. She had some good news too, she and her office cronies had taken up a collection and had over 200 dollars to add to the pot. She'd contacted the president of the PTA as well, and a bake sale would be scheduled as soon as possible. Myra estimated that they might raise as much as five hundred from the bake sale since it was for such a good cause.

"So, how was your date?" I teased once we'd exhausted the Johnson subject.

"Memorable," she giggled, "dinner, wine, more wine at his apartment."

"Hmm, did he get you drunk and take advantage of you?" I joked.

"More the other way around. What is it with guys these days? Why does the woman have to take the lead?"

I laughed, "Don't ask me, I'm not a player anymore. I'm way out of touch with that kind of stuff."

"Oh, I think you do okay, for a friend who only wants a platonic relationship."

"I think it's best at this point, don't you?"

"I'm not getting any younger, you know?" she sighed, "I miss having someone under foot all the time. If Henry hadn't left me for that blond, I was planning on spending the rest of my life with him."

"His loss," I said, "how'd that work out for him?"

She laughed, "She divorced his ass and took him for half his money, what little there was. He's on wife number four now, I believe."

"Serial husband," I joked, "I'm like you, I was happy with being married to my first forever and always."

"Is that why you don't want to remarry, because you still feel like you're married to your wife?"

"You know, I never really thought of it that way, but you might be right. I've just become comfortable with my solitary life style, and except for the interaction with the families and kids in the neighborhood, and you of course, I'm happy that way."

"Well, I'm happy with you too," she said, "I really need to go, though. Keep me updated, okay?"

"Will do, bye, and Myra, if I ever did want to get serious with a gal, you'd be my first choice."

"Good to know," she chuckled.

My little pal showed up all smiles, right on time, and now that he was comfortable with me and trusted me we went inside and sat at the dining room table while we had our snack. I hadn't eaten much all day and was happy to join him for cookies and milk.

"How was your day, kiddo?" I asked once we'd gotten seated.

"Good, really good. I got an 'A' on my rithmetic test," he said, pronouncing arithmetic cutely.

"Awesome, do you like math?"

"Yeah, and I'm really good at it. Mrs. Parker, our teacher, says I could probably beat the six graders in a contest."

"That's great, there are lots of careers that use math heavily and they all pay well. Someday you may be a computer programmer or an engineer."

"You mean, drive a train?" he said grinning, but I knew he was just joking. He knew what I meant, and was just pulling my leg.

"That too," I said ruffling his long hair. He needed a haircut and I had a pair of clippers and was pretty good at trimming hair. I made a mental note to ask his mom if I could trim his up a bit.

"Timmy," I said getting serious now, "how much do you know about what's going on with your mom?"

"Oh, well...she tells me everything," he said looking worried now, "but she says everything will work out, even if we gotta move."

"Well, I have some good news about that," I said moving a bit closer and laying a comforting hand on his arm, "you're not going to have to move. And...your electricity and water are back on...and we're going to get your mom's car fixed and she's going back to work."

His eyes grew wide and brimmed with tears, then he threw himself into me and hugged me fiercely, "You did all that, didn't you? I just knew you'd help us. I love you, grandpa."

It took a minute for me to realize what he'd just called me, and as if I wasn't already emotional enough, tears begin to fall down my cheeks. Grandpa. That sounded mighty nice, especially coming from a sweet boy like Timmy.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to call you that," Timmy whispered, "I know you're not really my grandpa, but I kinda feel like you are. Is that okay?"

"Yes, very okay. I'd be proud to be your grandpa, but best not to tell too many people for now. How about for now I'm your 'Secret Grandpa'?" I suggested.

"Yeah, I like that, my 'Secret Grandpa. And just me, right?"

"Yep, just you, Secret Grandson," I teased.

"Momma will be sooo happy."

"She was, she is. I talked with her earlier and she agreed to let me bring you home because I have some things for you guys and I need to deliver them in my pickup."

"What kind of things?" Timmy asked, and since we'd finished our snack I showed him as I boxed up the items and got them ready to deliver.

"All that, for us?" he said wide-eyed as he studied the labels on several items.

"Yep, and now that your electricity and water are back on, your mom can fix you real meals and not just cold stuff."

"I love you," Timmy said throwing himself in my arms again, Grandpa," he said giving me a wink.

"I love you too, kiddo."

Timmy was all smiles as we headed to his apartment and his mom met us at the door. Between the three of us we had the groceries inside in no time and Mrs. Johnson began to stow them.

"Oh, my...now that we have soda, can I offer you something to drink?"

"I'm good," I said, "Timmy and I had milk and cookies earlier."

"I'll help you put stuff away," Timmy offered.

"Oh, I heard from that friend of yours, that mechanic," she said as she placed two dozen eggs in the fridge, that by now had begun to cool again.

"Oh, what did he say?"

"He said he couldn't be sure till he replaced the belt, but he didn't see no leakin' oil or anything like that. Said he'd be back tomorrow to replace the belt and start it up and see about the rest."

"Great, I'll have him change the oil too, that really helps prolong the life of a car."

"I called the diner, too, and the offer is still open to come back to work. I told em I'd keep in touch."

"Wonderful," I said smiling. I felt so good I was almost giddy. To think all it took was a little bit of cash and some caring to turn this little family around.

"Rob is great, ain't he, mom?" Timmy said giving me a smile.

"He sure is, but...it's isn't, not ain't, young man."

Timmy laughed, "Yeah, I ain't very good at speakin', am I?"

His mom just shook her head, and as she was putting some canned items in the cabinet she said, "I don't know what we'd of done if you hadn't helped us, and I want to thank you again, not just for the food and all, but for treatin' Timmy so special."

"That's easy, Timmy is very special."

"Can I tell momma?" Timmy said eying me pleadingly.

"Tell me what?" his mom said turning to him now.

"It's fine, Timmy, we shouldn't have any secrets from your mom."

He smiled, "Rob is sort of like my grandpa now, my 'Secret Grandpa', that only we know about. Is that all right?"

Frieda smiled, "It sure is, honey, it sure is. Then she smiled at me and whispered, "Thank you."

The car turned out to be in pretty good shape despite it's age, and after replacing the belt and changing the oil, my mechanic friend pronounced it was good to go. Frieda went back to work that next day.

Since Timmy and I were unofficially Grandpa and Grandson, Timmy stayed with me when his mom had to work evenings. It worked out well, Timmy would stop by after school, have a snack, do his homework, and Frieda would pick him up when her shift ended. She seldom worked past 8 o'clock, but on the odd occasion she picked up a graveyard shift, Timmy would sleep over in my spare bedroom.

I'd allowed Timmy to decorate the room to suit him and I'd bought him some new clothes to leave there so he wouldn't have to pack a bag when he slept over. He was a happy, well-adjusted boy now, and he'd begun to make friends at school now that he was no longer 'stinky Timmy', as some kids had come to call him.

As for Myra and I, well, things began to get a bit more serious as the year progressed, and we finally had our first real kiss on New Year's Eve at a party she'd invited me too. As hard as I'd tried to fight back the feelings I was developing for her, that kiss caused me to reassess my life.

Timmy loved Myra as much as he loved me, and often the three of us would go out to eat or to a movie while his mom worked, or just spend a quiet evening at my house. Myra loved the boy too, and she confessed that, like me, she regretted not having had any kids of her own. Just one more thing we had in common, and those things continued to count up as the year went on.

Spring came, and when school let out, Frieda allowed Timmy to spend his days with me as we explored the parks, the zoo, or just hung out at my place. Sometimes we'd go shopping and when Myra was available she'd go with us too.

We were sort of like a little family, a mom, a dad, and a great kid. Or more accurately, a grandma, a grandpa, and an awesome grandson. Timmy still called me Grandpa, even when Myra was around, finally dropping the 'secret', but I think he was afraid to call Myra grandma for fear it would offend her since she certainly didn't look like a grandma.

In fact, Myra was almost ten years younger than me, and perhaps that's one of the things that held me back when it came to our relationship. However, I didn't look my age, and I certainly didn't act it, and to Myra it was no big deal.

Summer was great. We went to the pool, to the amusement park, the zoo, concerts in the park, and ate a ton of junk food. Sometimes when Frieda was off work we'd include her in our plans and she and Myra got along tremendously.

I think the two of them might have been doing some scheming, because one day while I was visiting with Frieda, the subject of Myra and I came up. Myra and Timmy were elsewhere, doing something, I forget what, and Frieda and I were sipping iced tea and rocking on my porch swing, enjoying the late afternoon breeze.

"Why don't you and Myra just get married and get it over with?" she asked me point blank, "you know you love her, and she loves you, and no need to dirty up two houses."

"Why do you ask that? Did she say something to you about wanting to get married?"

"Rob, what do you think women talk about when they're alone? Men! For her it's you and for me, well...it's about past men, and guys at work...but all she talks about is...you."

"I love Myra, I'm just not sure I love her that way."

"Oh, come on. I see how you look at her, and don't think me and Timmy don't notice the hand holding and the way you bump together all the time."

I was speechless, was it that obvious? "I...well, you know how it is with friends...?"

"Ha, friends, lovers, more like it."

"I'm just not sure if I'm ready to be in a relationship like that again."

"You already are, only difference is, she goes home at night."

Then it dawned on me, Frieda was right. Except for sex, Myra and I behaved just like a married couple, only we didn't live together."

I took a walk then, leaving Frieda to sip her tea and smile knowingly as I excused myself. I walked around the block and by the time I'd returned Myra and Timmy had joined Frieda on the front porch. Myra sat on the steps while Timmy swung his feet next to his mom on the porch swing.

I smiled, but said nothing as I approached, then once I was in front of Myra I fell to one knee and directed my smile directly at her.

"Myra, will you do me the honor of marrying me?"

Frieda cried, and Timmy whooped and hollered when Myra calmly said, 'yes', and we lived happily ever after. Or so we planned.

The end

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Secret Grandpa

by Rob Warr

Chapter 2