Street tipping his hat to all the ladies and smiling a large toothy grin. There was no one qualified to replace the man, no one at all.
Seven sat at the kitchen table, nervously tapping his only remaining set of toes against the sole of his left shoe. Tucked under his artificial leg was the bundle of letters. Tiffany sat next to him at the table; her hand was placed lightly on the upper part of his stump. She applied a slight amount of pressure to ensure Seven knew that he was not alone. Gran was consumed with cleaning up her kitchen and putting away the morning dishes. She sensed that something needed to be discussed and that Seven and his girlfriend were not sitting in her space just to keep her company. She knew that he had something to tell her. She didn’t need to hear the tapping of his left foot to tell her so. Having returned the final dish to its correct location in the cabinet, she turned and assumed one of the two remaining seats at the kitchen table. She sensed that the pending conversation was to be something of great importance, perhaps an engagement announcement.
“Okay, go ahead and tell me why the two of you are sitting here in my kitchen,” Gran said. She was not much for small talk.
Tiffany looked over at Seven and increased the pressure to his stump. A clear indication that it was time to begin the uncomfortableness.
“Gran, there is something that we…I would like to talk to you about,” he said in a nervous, broken voice.
An uncharacteristic smile began to form on the old woman’s face. She sensed that the conversation was about to turn to a future wedding. The smile quickly disappeared as her grandson revealed the collection of letters concealed under his leg. He gently placed the bundle in the center of the table and all three of them stared at it in silence.