A Family Affair

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A Family Affair Page 8

by Shannon VanBergen


  Hattie studied me for a moment. “I’m guessing more happened than you and Geraldine let on?”

  I gave her the quick version of the truth: Grandma pulled her gun, I nearly got strangled to death, and we barely made it out alive. I expected Hattie to have some sympathy, a little compassion. Instead, she smiled and clapped me on the back. “But it made you feel alive, didn’t it?”

  I looked at her like she was nuts, because honestly, she was. “No, it didn’t make me feel alive! It made me feel like I was going to die!”

  She shrugged. “Well, what are the odds you’d come close to death twice in one day? I say we go in there.”

  “No!” I yelled, pulling her away from the car door. “Let’s just sit here a minute.”

  We were parked on the side of the building. As long as the owner of the car, who I assumed was the guy that had me in a headlock earlier, didn’t pull around here when he left, he’d never see us.

  “I have an idea,” Hattie said. “He doesn’t know who I am. How about I go inside or peek in the window and try to see what’s going on.”

  I didn’t trust Hattie, but I didn’t have a better idea. “Fine,” I said, “but just lay low!”

  “I’ll be as smooth as butter, as cool as a cucumber, as stealthy as a ninja!” She made a weird karate chop move.

  “Just don’t cause a scene. Act natural.” Or maybe I didn’t want her to act natural. “And come right back and tell me what’s going on.”

  Hattie got out of the car and ran up to the building. She pressed her back up against it. What was she doing? She slid along the gas station until she got to the corner and then disappeared around the front. She was nuts. Truly nuts. Did she honestly think no one would see her? Did she think no one would think it was strange that an old woman was slinking along a building? I looked around. The few other people in the parking lot didn’t even seem to notice.

  Time seemed to stand still. What was taking her so long? I glanced down at the clock on the dash. She had only been gone for three minutes. Finally, I saw her slinking back around the corner. When she got to the front of the car, she looked both ways like she was making sure no one was watching then ran to open the car door and climbed in. I glanced around the parking lot too. Why was no one paying attention to her? Her moves didn’t actually work, did they?

  She was a little out of breath. “Okay,” she said. “I got the scoop. When I peeked in the window, I saw a hooligan talking to a young man behind the checkout counter. I’m assuming the person who’s working is Carson.”

  “What did that ‘hooligan’ look like?” I asked.

  She explained his features and I knew right away that was the guy that threatened to kill me earlier. “Could you tell what they were talking about?”

  “No,” she answered. “But it looked like they were arguing. I was afraid to go in and interrupt them. I thought it would be better just to watch them from the window.”

  Just then, we heard tires squeal and looked over to see the lowrider speeding out of the parking lot. I got a glimpse of the driver and it was definitely the guy from earlier. “Let’s go talk to Carson,” I said, suddenly feeling bold.

  Carson was just as Les described. He seemed timid as soon as we walked in the door. He didn’t seem like the kind of person that would be in a gang, so I didn’t understand why a gang member would pay him a visit. “Let’s buy something and try to make small talk with him,” I whispered to Hattie. “Maybe he’ll talk to us more if he thinks we’re just regular people here to shop.”

  Hattie agreed.

  We made our way to the counter and saw his name tag: Carson B. This was definitely our guy.

  “Hello there, young man,” Hattie said brightly. “I’ll take a couple lottery tickets.”

  Carson seemed a little shook up and distracted. He asked Hattie which ones she wanted but instead of looking at her, he was looking out the window.

  “Are you okay?” she asked him.

  He didn’t answer, just kept his eyes on something outside. His eyes were darting this way and that. He was looking to make sure his visitor was gone.

  “Did that gangbanger give you trouble?” Hattie asked. Carson’s head flew around. Now she had his attention.

  “Do you know him? Did he send you in here?” he asked anxiously.

  Hattie stayed calm, but I was beginning to shake again. Carson’s anxiety was contagious.

  “He didn’t send me in here,” she assured. “I just saw him parked out front when I pulled in.”

  Carson nervously looked outside again.

  “You can relax,” she said to him. “We saw him leave. He peeled out of here and went north.”

  Carson took a breath. “You sure?”

  “We’re sure. Right?” She looked at me to verify.

  “Yes,” I spoke up. “He’s gone.”

  “Was he giving you trouble?” Hattie asked again.

  Carson seemed to snap out of his anxious daze. He looked at us as if for the first time. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he said firmly. “How can I help you two?”

  Hattie asked for a few lottery tickets and when he handed them over, I expected Hattie to question him some more. Instead, she took the tickets, thanked him, and walked away.

  “What are you doing?” I said to her as we walked to the other side of the store. “We didn’t ask him anything! We have to question him!”

  “We need to give him a minute,” Hattie answered. “Plus, I want to see if I won anything.” She began scratching off her first ticket, and I heard bells jingle. I looked up to see who had walked in, hoping it wasn’t the gang member. Hattie looked up too. In walked Rosa and her son Bobby. They both looked tired.

  “Rosa!” Hattie called and Rosa immediately smiled when she saw us. She walked over and gave us both a hug.

  “Hello!” she said brightly. “Did you win anything?” She motioned to the lottery ticket.

  “Not yet,” Hattie said. “But I think my second one will be lucky.”

  I saw Bobby grab a couple bottles out of the refrigerator section and go up front to pay. I watched him while Rosa and Hattie made small talk. I couldn’t tell what Carson and Bobby were saying, but they seemed to know each other. I saw him look out the window and his brows furrowed. That was interesting. He seemed upset…or worried.

  “I won fifty dollars!” Hattie exclaimed, showing us her ticket. “I knew it would be lucky!”

  Rosa congratulated her then glanced back to see Bobby standing at the counter. “I better run. We just stopped in here to grab a soda. We have to run to Miami to get a few things for the restaurant.”

  We said our good-byes and I watched her walk up to Bobby. She said a quick hello to Carson and then they left.

  “Hattie,” I said to her, “I think Carson and Bobby know each other.”

  Hattie just shrugged. “Everyone in this town knows everyone.” She scratched off another section of her third ticket. “I just won another fifty dollars!”

  “Hattie, pay attention,” I scolded her. “I think Carson just told Bobby about the gang member that was just in here. Why would he do that?”

  “Let’s go find out.” Hattie marched up to the counter and slapped down her tickets. “I won a hundred dollars!” she pointed out. “And tell me what you know about Jason Norris!”

  Carson’s face went white. For a minute, I thought he might actually run.

  “Why is everyone asking about him?” he asked, his voice shaking.

  I was confused. “Who else is asking about him?”

  Carson stuttered for a moment, then pulled himself together. “No one,” he said, handing Hattie her money.

  I wanted to ask him more, but it was obvious he wasn’t going to answer. He had completely shut down.

  We walked out of there empty-handed, except for Hattie, who was a hundred dollars richer.

  “Well, that was a waste,” I said, starting the car.

  “Not really,” Hattie said, waving her money. “I found it
to be very fruitful.”

  “Maybe for your wallet but not the case.” I was frustrated. Clearly, Carson knew something. And what were him and Bobby talking about? Could Bobby be in the gang? None of this added up. We needed to get all the Grannies together to talk about this.

  17

  The next morning, I straightened up a rack of designer cat clothes at our store Hello Beautiful. I glanced in a mirror by the dressing room and smiled. I had changed a lot in the few months I’d been in Florida. Well, maybe not a lot but I had made some changes.

  I was pretty plain when I moved here—no makeup, never did my hair. And now thanks to Grandma, I had an appreciation for lip gloss and mascara. They really did brighten up my face. Unfortunately, my hair was still an issue. Would I ever learn to tame it? I knew that Grandma would like to make some more changes to the way I dressed, but I had even grown in that area too. Gone were my jeans and baggy t-shirts. Now I wore more fitted shirts, or tailored as Grandma Dean like to call it, and better-fitting jeans. I smiled at myself again. It was amazing how small changes could boost self-esteem. And I knew that it meant a lot to Grandma to share makeup and fashion with me, even if I would never fully understand it or embrace it like she did. I was starting to think it was fun.

  I thought back to our little meeting the night before when Hattie and I told the other Grannies the victim’s name was Jason Norris and how we also met Carson and thought he might be involved somehow. Unfortunately, we just ended up with more questions than answers and after thirty minutes, the meeting was over and everyone had gone their own way.

  Our door jingled and I turned around expecting to see a customer, but instead it was Les.

  “Hey!” I greeted him. “What are you doing here?”

  “Oh, just popped in to say hi.” He looked around. “This place has really come together.”

  I couldn’t help but feel proud. “It really has, hasn’t it?” I picked up a cat t-shirt that had fallen off a hanger and hung it back up. “Business is doing pretty well! But I think we might need to hire someone to help. When Grandma and I are working on a case, we can’t always seem to get in here.”

  Les made a face. “That’s bad for business.”

  “I know,” I agreed. “That’s why we need someone to fill in.”

  Les thought about it for a minute. “If you hire someone, maybe you could introduce me to her.”

  “Are you asking to be set up with someone who doesn’t even work here yet?” I couldn’t help but laugh. “She could be psycho!”

  Les just shrugged. “I don’t even care at this point.” He suddenly looked so sad and lonely. Or did he always look like that?

  “Sorry,” he apologized. “It’s so hard to find someone these days.”

  I wanted to agree, but I couldn’t. I seemed to have the opposite problem. That made me think of Joe. I really needed to call him. I couldn’t avoid him forever. Suddenly, I had an idea. “Have you met Annalise?”

  Les thought about it. “The name sounds familiar. Who is she?”

  “She works at Grandma’s antique store down the street. I have coffee with her every once in a while. I think she’s single.”

  Les’ eyes lit up. “Really? Do you think she’d go out with me?”

  “It wouldn’t hurt to ask!” I said, pulling out my phone.

  “Whoa, what are you doing?” he asked me in a panic. “You’re not going to ask her right now, are you?”

  “Why not?” I asked. “She’s working right now, and it’s probably dead there. I’ll just send her a text.”

  Les waited nervously while I typed. She answered right away, and we texted back and forth for a minute. Les was practically jumping up and down. “What did she say? What are you typing?”

  I smiled at him. “She said she’d love to meet you. I told her to meet you and I for lunch tomorrow. If it goes well, I’ll leave you two alone. If not, I’ll stay.”

  Les threw his arms around me. “Thank you so much! I need a haircut!” he said suddenly. “I’m going to run down to the barber!”

  “Noon tomorrow at The Sandwich Shoppe,” I hollered to him as he ran out the door. He flashed me a thumbs-up and just like that, he was gone. I wish all problems could be solved that quickly.

  I smiled to myself as I worked, feeling pretty proud of myself for setting up my two friends. I heard the jingle of bells again and turned around, this time expecting Les to be standing there ready to give me another hug or something. But it wasn’t Les, it was Detective Owen, and the look on his face made my stomach twist. “You look like something’s wrong,” I said as I walked over to him. “Is everything okay?”

  He took another step toward me, and I could smell his cologne. He gently took my arm. “Nikki,” he said softly. “It’s Geraldine. She’s in the hospital. They think she had a heart attack.”

  18

  My head was spinning as Detective Owen drove me to the hospital. I couldn’t lose her. I just couldn’t. He hadn’t been able to give me much information. All he knew was that the Grannies were out having breakfast and Grandma collapsed.

  When we pulled up in front of the hospital, I froze. I didn’t want to go in by myself. “Will you come up with me?” I asked.

  Owen smiled gently. “I called Joe. He should be here any minute. But I can walk you up.”

  We parked and silently made our way up to the hospital and then up the elevator. When the doors opened, a long white hall seemed to stretch out for miles. I just stood there, not wanting to go any further. The distinct smell of the hospital did nothing to calm my nerves.

  “Come on,” Owen said softly. “Virginia texted me her room number. It’s this way.”

  He took my hand and guided me down the bright hallway. We took a left, and I could immediately see the Grannies gathered several doors down. Owen stopped. “I have a meeting I have to go to,” he said. I grabbed his hand tighter. He couldn’t leave me now! “It’s okay,” he tried to reassure me. “Joe will be here soon.” There was sadness in his eyes as he said it. Even in my emotional state, I could see it. Was he that worried about Grandma Dean? Or was it something else?

  He let go of my hand. “I’ll be up later to check on her,” he promised. “And I’ll have someone bring over your car.” He walked away, and I turned toward the Grannies. I took in a deep breath of hospital air and immediately regretted it. How many germs did I just inhale? I hated hospitals. I sucked in another breath and made my way toward Grandma’s friends, my friends.

  As soon as they saw me, they threw their arms around me. Virginia was the first one. “We’re so glad you’re here,” she said through teary eyes. I hugged each one and stood back.

  “How is she?” I asked, not sure I wanted to hear the answer.

  “She’s stable,” Greta answered. “They ran a bunch of tests and just got her settled in her room.”

  “Is that her room?” I asked, pointing toward the door we stood in front of. The Grannies nodded. “Why aren’t you going in?”

  They looked at each other and then at me. “We can’t,” Virginia said quietly.

  “Why not? Did the doctor say she couldn’t have visitors?”

  They looked at each other again. “No,” Virginia said slowly. “It’s in our agreement.”

  “Agreement?” I asked. “What are you talking about?”

  “We’re all getting up there in age,” Irene explained, “so we have a contract of sorts. It lists all of our wishes should something happen to us.”

  “And Grandma doesn’t want visitors?” I asked. These women came up with a lot of weird stuff, but this was just ridiculous.

  “She only wants visitors if she’s unconscious and not going to make it,” Hattie answered. “We talked to the doctor a few minutes ago and they said they think she’s going to be okay.”

  “So, you’re just going to stand out here? You’re not going to go in to show her you care?”

  Greta gently took my arm to comfort me. “It’s okay,” she said with a smile. “She kno
ws we’re here.”

  “I can’t believe this,” I said. “You’re seriously not going to go in?”

  They shook their heads no.

  “How long ago did you come up with this agreement?” I asked. “Maybe you forgot exactly what she wanted or maybe she changed her mind.”

  Each granny reached in their purses and rummaged through it, then each one pulled out a folded piece of paper. I watched as they unfolded it, and Hattie handed me her copy. It looked like a legal document, all typed up and signed by each granny, along with a signature and seal of a notary.

  Their names were listed in alphabetical order along with their wishes should something happen to them. I looked under Grandma’s name. There was a list of people to call, including my mother, her daughter. Then there were specific instructions on who could visit and when. The Grannies were right. They weren’t allowed in, only family, unless Grandma was truly on her deathbed.

  “But why?” I asked. “Why doesn’t she want you in there?”

  Hattie chuckled as she took her paper back from me. “She doesn’t want us to see her with no makeup and her hair a mess.”

  I rolled my eyes and looked to the other Grannies for an answer. “She’s right,” Irene said. “That’s the reason.”

  Were they serious? I stood there for a moment waiting for one of them to say something that wasn’t ridiculous, but they just started back at me.

  “Seriously?” I asked. “That’s really the reason?”

  “Yep,” Virginia laughed. “That’s Geraldine for you.”

  “Aren’t your feelings hurt?” I asked. I knew mine would be.

  “Of course not,” Irene laughed. “You think hers is weird? Did you read Hattie’s?”

  I hadn’t even thought to read what the others’ wishes were. “No,” I said, wishing now that I had read the whole paper before I handed it back.

  I looked around for the papers, but they were apparently all tucked back in their purses and no one reached for one to show me.

  “We know she doesn’t want us to see her out of sorts, and we respect that. So, we’ll just stand out here.” Greta smiled. They were clearly all okay with this. “But you go in,” she urged me. “I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you.”

 

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