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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. Grammy 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.
