by Lucia Franco
Got to love New York City. It's the only city in the world that can make dreams come true while eating you alive at the same time.
Chapter Three
The first couple weeks of school are always so much more exhausting than the rest of the year for me. Adjusting to new classes, homework, and two jobs, I guess it would be tiring for anyone.
The stress of life and reality. Welcome to Adulthood 101.
As I sit on the bus watching the world pass me by, a feeling of nostalgia settles in my heart. Queens is where I was born and raised, and the only home I've ever known. I may have been all around New York City and Long Island, but that's the extent of my traveling. I've never left the state of New York.
I breathe in the familiar neighborhood and take in the exposed brick homes and black wrought iron fences. I don't get to see Grammy as often as I'd like because of my schedule, but when I do, I make the most of it. She's the only family I have left and I plan to spend all day with her. I know she'll have made my favorite chocolate kiss cookies and she'll insist on giving me cash for my birthday. She tries every year, and every year I turn around and deposit it right back into her account.
Two more stops and the breaks squeak as the bus pulls to a hard stop just a block away from Grammy’s. I can already smell the sweets as I walk up to her little unit, and I smile to myself. Her barred windows are open and jazz music fills the air. One of her many cats is perched on her stoop and I bend down to pet the fur ball. She purrs and raises her ass in the air like a little hussy.
"Grammy!"
I step over the threshold with ease. This isn't the greatest part of Queens and the door needs to be locked at all times, yet it never is. Grammy says she grew up never worrying about that and she isn't going to start now. She's a stubborn woman.
"My Aubrey." She pulls me into a tight hug. The woman is just over five feet and as strong as an ox. I look over her shoulder and see a new creature, one that wasn't here a month ago.
I pull back. "Gram, did you get another cat?"
"I don't find the cats, they find me." She smiles, and I give her a warning look. "What? They need food and a warm home. I give it to them."
"Someone is going to report you."
She waves her hand away. "They can go bend over."
I giggle. My grammy isn’t one to ever curse.
Placing my purse on the table, I look around, and my brows furrow. "How many do you have?"
"I stopped counting."
I draw in a deep breath and frown. "How does it not smell like kitty litter in here?"
"I have nothing better to do with my life at my age, so I keep my house clean and change litter boxes often. Then I go to bingo. Enough about me. How has school been? How's Natalie doing?"
I take a seat at the little dinette table and watch as she bustles around the kitchen wanting to feed me. The cushions are covered in plastic and the Formica counter is peeling at all the corners. For a woman in her late seventies, she's light on her feet. She attributes it to the cheap red wine and the fact she doesn't have a man in her life. She pays three dollars for the bottle and only allows one glass a night. She says it’s because her cats need her.
I wasn't going to argue with that. Heaven forbid one of them coughs up a fur ball while she’s on a bender.
I tell her all about the classes I'm taking, the professors, and of course Natalie, who she loves.
"Seems like you have your work cut out for you this semester. Think you can handle it?"
"Oh, yeah. It's nothing new, really. The classes are a little harder and I took on an extra one, but I think I'll be fine."
Her eyes soften and I catch a little water in them. "Your parents would've been so proud. I know I am."
I look down. I miss them more and more every day.
Grammy fills me in on all the neighborhood gossip—who she can't stand, which of their dogs are always shitting on her lawn, who's sleeping with who, and how she's got one person down the street trying to convert her to veganism, and another always preaching about God. She refers to the last two as a Jesus freak and a plant-eating hippie. Her New York accent is so strong that it makes her storytelling animated. She might not have much to do, but she sure has an interesting group of people surrounding her.
She places a plate of fresh-baked cookies in front of me. The little thumbprints with a chocolate kiss right in the center smell divine and are my favorite. I pick one up and pop it into my mouth, and sigh over the sugary softness. I watch as she reaches under the kitchen sink for a large bottle, then places it on the counter. She retrieves two tumblers and pours us each a drink of the clear liquid. I lean over to sniff it when she sets the drink down in front of me. The scent singes my nostrils and burns.
"I didn't take you for a day drinker," I say.
"Aubrey, I have waited for this day for years."
I chuckle and eye her. "To have a drink with me?"
"Yes, you're twenty-one now."
She must've assumed I've never tasted alcohol in my life, which is cute and naive of her. I'm in college, of course I have, but I'll let her believe I haven’t.
I lean over to smell the contents again, and my face pinches up. "What is this?"
"Sambuca."
"Do you just sip this?" I ask. I've never had it before.
She sits down in front of me and raises her glass and levels a stare at me. "You're going to shoot it."
My brows raise up. "A shot?"
"Yes," she says, like it's obvious.
I glance at the glass. "That's more than a shot. That's like two big shots."
She ignores me and wishes me a happy birthday. "Cheers, my sweet granddaughter!" She taps her glass to mine.
Grammy finishes her drink before I even sip mine, and I gawk. Bringing the glass to my lips, I cringe from the smell and shut my mind off, and take the shot—or shots. I'm not sure what she poured me.
Goose bumps coat my arms and I shudder tasting the nasty liquor. It reminds me of black licorice and tastes hot—disgusting—but I smile anyway like I like it.
"I don't know how you drink this," I say as she refills my glass.
"That's a good girl," she says, then shoves more cookies in front of me.
It doesn’t take long for the alcohol to stream through my veins and make me smile a lot. I turn into a giggly happy drinker every time. I’m not a huge drinker due to school and work, but I can hold my own. I tell her how Natalie wants to take me out, and Grammy thinks that’s generous of her.
"I'm glad I got to be the first to get you drunk on your twenty-first. Now, be careful tonight and don’t do anything I wouldn't do," she says. Before my parents died, I'd heard colorful stories about her that I couldn't make up even if I wanted to.
Grammy walks into her bedroom and is back in a handful of seconds holding an envelope and a box. She hands them both to me.
I groan. "Grammy, I told you not to get me anything."
"Oh, quiet your mouth," she says. Her eyes glisten, and it makes me feel good to see her so happy. "And I didn't really get you anything. It was your mom’s."
I stare at her for a moment as tears well in my eyes. I don't have much to remind me of my parents since I’d been so young when they passed away. Exhaling a breath, I open the box to reveal a rose gold necklace with a charm inside. My finger strums the thin chain and my heart breaks a little bit at seeing it.
Grammy leans over and places her chin on her hand. "I remember seeing her wear it and I asked why in the world she would wear a horseshoe when she’d never even ridden a horse in her life. Actually, she was never in a ten-foot radius of one, now that I think about it. Anyway, she said she didn't know why, just that she loved it at first sight. Your dad bought it for her and she never took it off." She pauses. "After the car accident, that was one of the few items recovered. Her diamond earrings were missing, as well as her watch. They were probably stolen at the scene, but that was still there. I've held onto it ever since."
My chin quivers. Gramm
y takes the necklace and stands up to place it around my neck.
"I read years ago that a horseshoe is supposed to protect from evil and negative energy, if you believe in that sort of thing." Her voice softens. "She'd want you to have it."
"Thank you," I say, my voice just above a whisper. Tears blur my vision and I quickly wipe the fat drop that slips down my cheek. "It's beautiful."
"Open the card when you get home," she says, and I nod. Her phone rings and she shuffles across the kitchen to pick up the receiver to answer it.
I know what's inside the envelope. It's a heartfelt message that will probably make me tear up more, and fifty bucks. I've saved every card she's given me, and this one will go in my sentimental box too. A quick glance at the clock on her stove makes me realize it's been hours since I got here. Time always flies when I'm with Grammy.
"Yes, Francis, I said I was coming to bingo, so cool your cucumber." She winks at me. I hear the eagerness in her voice as she talks to her friend while she picks at cookies. Her sweet tooth is just as bad as mine. "I'll be there to pick you up. I haven't forgotten. I'm not the one with Alzheimer's—you know that's Annabel—but maybe you need to have your head examined because we just had this conversation this morning."
She hangs up and I stand. It's going to take me about an hour to get home, and I still need to eat before I go out. The last thing I want to do is drink on an empty stomach.
"I love you, Grammy. Thank you for today."
"Thank you, honey. I loved today and I hope you have fun tonight. Be safe. Let's do this again now that you're legal, and bring Natalie with you too. Here, take these," she says, and shoves a tin toward me that I know is packed with sweets.
We say our goodbyes and I walk the block to the bus station. Inhaling the fresh air, I take my cell phone out and call my best friend.
"Nat?" I say, and hiccup.
"Yeah, girl."
"I think my grandmother was trying to get me drunk. She gave me two double shots. I think I'm tipsy."
She laughs. "Gotta love Grammy. Let's do this!"
Other novels by Lucia Franco
Standalone titles
You'll Think of Me
Hold On to Me
Hush, Hush
Off Balances series
Balance
Execution
Release
Acknowledgments
With each book that comes to an end, I find myself surrounded by the same incredible people again. These women are my team. The ones who keep my head screwed on straight and lift me up when I'm feeling down. They're my squad girls, my biggest cheerleaders. I wouldn't be able to do this without them in my corner.
Jill Mac, Nadine Winningham, Amber Hodge, Vashti Dawn.
Each of you have played an integral part of this journey with me. Whether it being a shoulder to lean on, brainstorming a plot with me or beta reading, editing and proofreading, being an incredible assistant who goes above and beyond, Twist would not be what it is. I’m grateful for the friendship, but also that I get to work with you professionally. Who wouldn't want to work with their best friend? I could never thank you enough for all the hard work you put in to help me bring another book to fruition. It doesn’t go unnoticed. Love you gals!
Readers, you humble me. Your love and support for this series is what encourages me to write, and make every story better than the last. Between the messages and tags, I’m honestly blown away. Never did I expect you guys to ship a series the way you do this one. Thank you for being patient with me while I finish writing Adrianna's story. It's been a long and angsty ride—we’re almost to the finish line!
To my fabulous street team members who jump at every chance to promote my books—you guys have rendered me speechless with your endless support. Thank you for showing me that my words matter. I love you guys so much!
A huge thank you to my family for dealing with me. I spend a lot of time in my little office, and there is never a complaint from anyone. If anything, I'm being pushed to do more, and I love that. Thank you for talking about my books to friends any chance you get since I'm too shy to, and for just being a pretty rad family.
About the Author
A competitive athlete for over ten years, Lucia Franco currently resides in sunny South Florida with her husband and two boys. Paranormal romance was her first love, but she has a soft spot in her heart for small-town and reunion romance stories.
When Lucia is not hard at work on her next novel, you can find her relaxing with her toes in the sand at a nearby beach.
Find out more at authorluciafranco.com.
