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“Count it,” Julia advises. “Make sure you’re satisfied.”
Gary’s hands are shaking as he counts the cash. “It’s fine.”
“Good. Now, I want you to leave my house and never come back,” Julia instructs the young man. “Are we clear on that?”
“No problem.” Gary stuffs the money into the pocket of his jeans as he struggles to his feet. “You get your weed from somewhere else from now on,” he says to Mark. “Are we clear onthat?” He backs out the front door, leaping over the row of coral impatiens to his car.
Mark watches the old Mustang disappear down the main road, then shuts the front door and turns back to face his grandmother, who is still clinging tightly to the gun. “Holy fuck, Nana!” he says, borrowing Gary’s words.
“Holy fuck,” Julia agrees.
“Why don’t you let me take that?” he offers, gently prying the weapon from her hands.
“Good idea. Oh dear.”
“What is it?”
“My heart is racing.”
“Well, no wonder.”
“I’m feeling a bit strange.”
“You should sit down. I’ll get you some water.”
“Darling…”
“Yes, Nana?”
“I don’t want you to be alarmed but…”
“What?”
“I think maybe you should call an ambulance.”
“Why? What’s happening?”
Julia hears the panic in her grandson’s voice and watches the color that has only recently returned to his cheeks start to disappear again. It’s the last thing she sees before everything goes black.
