Grandma’s Hot Tub
My grandfather died when I was about fifteen, and my grandmother never remarried. I had always wondered why, and sometimes I wondered if she dated. She would come over, and I used to wonder what she looked like naked, if her body was still in good enough shape for a man to be interested. She wasn’t bad-looking at all. She had dark, jet-black hair, and I figured the color came from a bottle. Hell, I didn’t care. A person has to do what they have to do in order to look good, I figured.