seventeen
The phone rang while I struggled with my front door key. I sighed and rolled my eyes as Gwen Stefani spelled bananas and swiped the screen.
“Hi Nanna.”
“What’s this I hear about you being caught up in police business? Did you ask for a lawyer? Don’t ever talk to the police without a lawyer.” I heard general noises of agreement from the other ladies in her poker club, along with one shouted “ACAB!” from someone I couldn’t identify.
“I don’t need a lawyer. I witnessed a murder. How do you know about it?”
“Heard it on the police scanner.”
“Of course you did.”
“Don’t sass me! I shouldn’t have had to hear about it on the police scanner. You should have called me.”
Tears welled in my eyes. Hearing her voice triggered the meltdown I’d put off for too long. “I haven’t had time. It’s been kind of crazy.”
She made a sound like air leaking from a balloon. “Crazy is my specialty.”
It actually was. Nanna came of age in the sixties and embraced the free love, commune lifestyle before making a hard left in the eighties and becoming a corporate power broker. In the nineties, she made another U-turn and went new age, talking me into going with her to Rainbow Family gatherings and Spiral ceremonies. She was a five-foot nothing bulldozer and it didn’t matter if she was running you over with love or kicking your ass; you were guaranteed to feel it.
I loved her, but she could be a lot.
I took a deep breath and blinked back the tears. Now was not the time. I needed to pack and wander in the woods until Thurl found me. I would have to call Emma and beg her to take care of the cats for a while. I’d have to take my two extra special needs kitties with me. Sir Purrs-a-lot needed daily medication and refused to let Emma near him, and Catzilla was just mean to everyone but me.
“I know, and ordinarily you would have been my first call, but there are extenuating circumstances this time.” Like a seven-foot tall, horned, tailed beast.
“Extenuating circumstances?”
“Yes.”
“I’m coming over.”
The line went dead before I could make another sound. Nanna’s active senior neighborhood was on the other side of the city, but it wouldn’t take her long to get here. Mom had tried to take her keys once, saying she was no longer fit to drive. Nanna didn’t speak to her for half a decade. Since I lived with Nanna until I went to college, I spent those years acting as go-between. Tell your grandmother this and tell your mother that got old after the first month, but Nanna wouldn't budge so I got used to it.
I rushed around, hoping to at least be packed before she showed up. I had no idea what I threw into my suitcase, but I carefully packed Sir Purrs-a-lot’s meds and enough food for him and Catzilla before corralling them into carriers. I was on the phone with Emma when Nanna’s tires squealed as she came around the corner.
The two right wheels barely touched the ground as she whipped into my driveway.
All I wanted was to find Thurl and curl up with him, and I almost lost it when she slid from her land yacht and shuffled at what she called lightning speed (which was slightly faster than a normal walking pace) to where I stood in the living room. She didn’t slow down until I was sinking against her impossibly soft bosom and belly while her arms cut off my circulation.
“Thanks so much, Emma. I owe you one.”
As soon as I hung up Nanna pushed me back and gave me a once over. “You look okay. Are you okay? Of course you’re not okay, that’s a stupid question.”
I’d learned it was best to wait until she ran out of steam before trying to get a word in. She turned toward my kitchen.
“I’ll make cookies. Snickerdoodles. Those are still your favorite, right?”
“Yes, but Nanna—“
“Good. You’ll have the ingredients because you’re a good girl who learned that keeping emergency cookie ingredients on hand is imperative.”
No one would ever go hungry if Nanna could help it. Her door was always open, and more days than not, she had something yummy baking when school let out. I was only popular because nobody wanted to be banned from Nanna’s house.
“Nanna, please. You can’t stay.”
Something in my voice must have registered because she stopped pulling out cookie sheets and turned around. “Why not?”
“The police don’t think it’s safe for me to stay here, so I’m going to stay with a friend.”
She nodded several times before she shoved the cookie sheet back into the cabinet. “I’ll go with you. Will they have emergency cookie ingredients, or do we need to stop on the way?”
I winced. This would not go over well. “You can’t.”
“The hell you say. I can and will. No granddaughter of mine is going into hiding without me.”
“I’m your only granddaughter.”
She waved her arm. “Beside the point. You’ve never been in hiding before, and I have. It only makes sense I go with you.”
“The friend I’m going to stay with is very private. I haven’t even asked if I can stay with him yet, and I doubt he’ll want extra guests.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Very private?”
I nodded.
“Is that code for supernatural?”
My face gave away my shock.
“Oh, don’t look so surprised. I’m eighty-one years old and have depths and multitudes of layers you’ve only scratched the surface of.”
“But how do you know supernaturals exist?”
“I spent an amazing month with a vampire named Killian.” She fanned herself. “The things that bloodsucker could do would curl your toes.”
“I get the picture!” I needed to cut off that line of conversation before she went into far more detail than anyone wanted to hear. “It still has to be up to him. You can’t invite yourself.”
“Fine, fine.” She plopped onto my couch and patted her lap. Three cats came running to vie for her attention. “Be a dear and grab my go bag from the trunk while we wait.”