Free Aging with Gracie by Heather Hunt

running shoes, the clogs were the only pair of shoes that fit the ankle brace. She’d been able to leave her foot bare at Mansfield Park, but going barefoot, even with the brace in place, seemed too presumptuous for a first date.
    But was it really a date?
    Grace chanced a look at Jack and eyed his jeans and polo shirt. She was certainly glad that she’d made the choice to keep things casual. She would have looked foolish if she’d dressed up. Sadly, despite what he’d said earlier about her being beautiful, it was becoming more than obvious to Grace that Jack considered this outing a friendly meal...or worse, a business dinner.
“Jack the Third!” a gruff voice disturbed Grace’s thoughts.
A giant of a man burst forth from a set of swinging doors and headed their way.
“Paul Bunyan!” Grace blurted out before she could stop herself.
    The giant guffawed, and the sound of his laughter echoed off the tin bait cans perched on a ledge that encircled the room. Grace could only hope that they were not filled with worms or crickets. She shivered. Playing on a theme was fine with her, but she hoped that the fisherman’s fancy had ended there.
    “Not quite, little lady.” He grabbed a couple of menus from a cubby in the wall and slapped them onto the counter as he continued talking. “But I’m headed there.” He gave his belly a pat then held out his hand to Jack.
    Jack grasped the man’s hand, then found himself pulled into a hug.
    “Come here, young fellow, and give this old man a hug.”
    “How are you Max?” Jack gave the man a spine-thumping pat on the back then turned toward Grace. Before he could make the introduction, the older man had already latched onto her, carefully avoiding the arm encased in a sling.
“And who is this fine-looking filly?” he asked.
Taken aback at the reception, Grace could only stand there with her mouth hanging open.
“This is Grace,” Jack said. “Grace Woodhouse, meet Max Monroe.”
“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Monroe,” Grace greeted the man. “So, you’re not Jerry?”
    “Naw, that was my Daddy. And you can call me Max, pretty lady.” The man gave Grace a closer look. “Is this Paul Woodhouse’s young’un?”
    “She sure is, Max.” Jack nodded. “Paul bought the old retirement home east of town, and Grace is here to set things straight.”
    “You don’t say.” He rubbed his chin in thought. “Well, I’m not sure a pretty little thing like you should worry about getting your hands dirty at that old place. From what I hear, it’s a mess.”
    “ Was a mess,” Jack corrected him. “Grace has made quick work of getting things in order.”
    “With Jack’s help,” Grace finally found her voice. “He’s my contractor.”
    “Well, you won’t find a better one in three states,” he assured her as he flashed a gapped-tooth grin which Grace found absolutely adorable.
    “Please, Max.” Jack grabbed the menus and headed toward a large dining area. “You’ll give me the big-head.”
    “Not a chance of that,” the older man said with a shake of his head. “You’re one of the finest young boys around these parts.” He glanced at Grace. “Why, any woman would be lucky to snag you for her fella’.”
    “Enough with the matchmaking, Max.” Jake motioned Grace toward a table at the back of the room. “What’s today’s special?”
“Spicy grilled,” Max answered. “Of course, we’ll fix whatever you two decide on.”
“Thank you, Max,” Grace smiled. “It may take me a minute to decide.”
“Sure thing.” He started walking away. “I’ll just grab you two some sweet tea. Be back in a jiffy.”
Once Max was out of earshot, Grace turned to Jack.
“Is he for real?”
“What do you mean?” Jack laughed at her expression.
“The mountain man act,” she explained.
    “It’s no act, Princess,” Jack smiled. “Max is the real deal. He’s rich as Midas but as down to earth as they come. Born and raised right here in Manhattan.”
    “Honestly,