It had been a couple weeks and so it was about time I expected a visit from Grams. I woke-up to see her sitting at my bedside. She was wearing a soft gray cashmere sweater and charcoal slacks. She looked just as I remembered.
“What are you doing here Grams?” I asked groggily.
“Who else can you count on to wake you up at 6am?”
“I have my alarm.”
“There’s work to be done. I was never idle a day in my life.”
“I’m not idle Grams; I just haven’t found the right career for me. I was thinking professional organizer. All my stuff is super efficiently organized,” and I began to ramble on until I heard a loud blaring noise.
I jumped… it was my alarm and I was alone in my room, but I could still feel Grams presence in the air.
There was a reason I was up so early. I had been working out constantly for two days straight. I even joined Domnick and Armand at the Tennis & Racquet Club where Armand had just become a member, and I’m horrible at squash and probably all racquet games but I loved historic Boston.
The Tennis and Racquet Club was built in 1902 in the ornate style representative of the turn of the century. It is the oldest athletic and social club in the city. Armand had become enamored of squash a long time ago and loved the club’s old world charm. They also have three international and three North American squash courts, although I still preferred to hang out in the fitness center. Let’s just say I could not hit a beach ball with an air mattress, much less a tiny squash or tennis ball. My one consolation is that my attempt at trying, provide Dominick and Armand with enough amusement that they let me hang out.
“Everybody needs a little comedy relief,” said Dominick when I asked why they invited me. “By the way, what are you getting so fit, are you training for a marathon?”
“Better, I’m getting ready for by death by chocolate.”
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