Chapter 3

My flight landed in Nashville at about 4PM the following day. Still a bit woozy from the time difference, I tried to stay alert as I went to baggage claim. Within seconds after grabbing my bag, my phone buzzed with a message. “Follow the winker.”

Trying not to be too obvious, I allowed my eyes to scan around as if searching for the exit. As they slid over a cute little thing in a miniskirt, she gave me an unmistakable wink.

Well, shit. I would follow her anywhere. Not to be too obvious about our connection, I continued to scan the room while keeping an eye on the direction taken by the miniskirt. I bumbled this way and that a bit before leaving through the same door she had taken. Hey, us old farts aren’t supposed to be all that alert, are we?

Once outside, I lagged behind far enough to minimize any idea that we were together. When she moved over to the cab stand, I walked slowly past as if going to the next cab. The driver was at the rear of the cab, looking at her bag somewhat dubiously.

“Hey, Mister!”, she called to me as I went past. “If you are going downtown, we could share a cab and save money.”

Even if I weren’t thinking what a neat way this was to avoid watchers, I would have been more than willing to share a cab with her, on several levels. The possibility that she might be my grandchild had no bearing on my interests. Taboos are for those incapable of making their own decisions. I had my values well in place and felt free to operate freely within those limitations. They did not prevent me from many things that could get me jailed, although I found no harm in them. This was one of the key reasons why I lived in Europe where personal liberty was more than a catchphrase.

“Sure, why not?” I followed that tight ass into the back seat, imagining all sorts of possible scenarios while my ride buddy instructed the driver. He loaded our bags into the trunk, but I held onto my backpack. I travel very lightly and had everything that would be difficult to replace in it, including a change of clothes. No matter where I traveled, my backpack was kept near me at all times. Baggage often gets lost or stolen when traveling, so I have learned to pack accordingly.

My mind was still going over these events when we got settled in the back seat. My companion’s hand fell quite casually on my thigh and her hand squeezed my equipment, equally casually.

“Where are you staying, in Nashville?”, she asked with a wink and a slight negative motion with her head.

“I don’t have reservations, yet. Can you suggest something?” Apparently that was what she was hoping to hear.”

“I’m staying at The Radford. It’s nice. My mom always stays there because of the location and service.”

“I thought you looked to be a little young to be traveling alone.”

“Yeah, that’s the other reason I asked if you would share the ride. The driver was a bit nervous about taking me on my own. He relaxed when you agreed to go along. Now he isn’t as nervous about getting paid.”

The driver looked a bit embarrassed, so I reassured him. “Sure. Just drop us both off there.”

“No sweat.” I’m sure he meant the he would no longer sweat getting paid.

As we approached an exit, Emily (I assumed) called out to the driver. “Sorry, driver, I have an urgent need to use the bathroom. Do you mind stopping for a second?”

“I don’t mind, but I will have to keep the meter running.”

“That’s ok.” she gave me another of her head nods, which I interpreted as meaning that she wanted me to also get out.

“You know, I think I’ll go, as well. That was a long flight and I forgot to go before leaving the airport.” I gave the driver a hundred bucks as security so he wouldn’t worry about getting stiffed and took off after Emily.

“Do you always carry your backpack?”, the driver asked.

“Sure do. It’s my man purse. I keep my makeup in it.”

He snickered at my comment.

When we rounded the corner of the building, Emily grabbed my arm and hustled me over to a car driven by a very familiar looking woman who appeared to be in her 40s. Was this my daughter?

“Get in and get down”, she told us. “No use in letting everyone know you are back there.”

We did as we were told and stayed down until we were well away from the station.

“Hi Dad”, she said when I sat up.

It is difficult to describe the feelings that went through me at these words. Yesterday, I had no clue that she existed and today I had flown around a good chunk of the world to meet her and her lovely daughter--my granddaughter. And what a lovely child she was, at that. She had got in the back seat when I did, as it was easier to get out of sight there.

Now she climbed into my lap and put her arms around me.

“Hi Gramps!”

“Hi yourselves”, I managed. “Remember that you have had a bit more time to become accustomed to this arrangement than I have, so I am still feeling my way around what to do here.”

“We aren’t that far ahead of you, Dad. We only learned about you just over a week ago.”

“I can’t wait to learn more about this James Bond stuff we are acting out. Are we in danger?”

“I’m afraid so, Dad. I should have been more open with you on the phone, but it wasn’t secure and it could have increased the danger to all of us.”

“Ok, I’m willing to cut you some slack, but would like to get up to speed as soon as possible. At the moment, I am so ignorant of the situation that I can only be a handicap.”

“You did very good at following my signals, Gramps. That little scene at the airport couldn’t have gone off better if we had rehearsed it. I was hoping that you would hang onto your backpack so it wouldn’t be a major problem to leave your suitcase in the taxi.”

“We do seem to communicate on a very deep channel. In fact, it is as if you read my mind and maybe even put thoughts directly into it.”

“Well, Gramps, I have had a lot of practice dealing with horny old farts like yourself taking one look at my ass and wondering how it would feel to fuck the shit out of me.”

Oops! Busted! Now what?

“Don’t worry. I know how to deal with such things and won’t go screaming to the world that my grandpa is lusting after me.”

“I noticed that you seemed comfortable with my attraction.”

“Why wouldn’t I be? You’re still a stud and I’m still horny.”

“You aren’t bothered by the age and family bits?

“No, in the words of a wise man, ‘Taboos are for those unable to think for themselves’.”

“Then there is little reason to be less than brutally honest with you guys, is there?”

“No reason whatsoever. I’ll bet that woody I’m sitting on is the hardest it has been in a long time, if I’m reading your thoughts correctly.”

“You got that absolutely right.”

“Good. Now, since there isn’t time to do what we both want to do, how about a consolation prize?”