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This morning is like how most other Monday mornings have come to be, with one major addition. Granny. She happens to be sitting at the table in the kitchen while drinking a glass of water slowly, sip by methodical sip. She’s as silent as a viper and as benign-looking as a fuzzy kitten. Well, no, she’s no kitten. She’s more like a sleek mother cat. Granny is always wearing some kind of black. Today, it’s her favorite combo—the black power suit of epicness. Her long white hair is twisted up into a knot, and her face is almost angular in the shadows cast by the light overtop the table. It’s still pitch black out, but Granny wouldn’t bother with opening the blinds even if there were a good amount of sunlight out there.
“Whoa. There’s a granny in my kitchen.” I stop in my tracks. I’m wearing boxers…good fucking thing for that. Because I sometimes come down here for a glass of water in the nude before I head back to my room to get my workout clothes on.
“There is indeed a granny in your kitchen.” She sips her water slowly and sighs. “I bought you a station wagon with a big trunk area and an even bigger back seat. That bad boy seats eight.”
“Uh, please tell me you’re kidding.” I blink into the pale golden glow of the overhead light. Maybe this is a dream. Or maybe I’m sleepwalking. But no. I already know it’s real. Granny is just like that. She’s kind of crazy, though we all use the term unpredictable. She doesn’t like to be boring, that’s for sure.
“You mean you think it’s strange for me to leave Switzerland to come all the way here to buy you a station wagon and deliver it first thing in the morning?”
I scratch my head. “Uhhh, maybe a little.”
“And you think it’s strange that I hacked my way through all your security, disabling everything and slipping in seamlessly like a silent but violent gust of wind—”
“Otherwise known as a fart…and no, I’m not surprised about that. Hardly. You taught me everything I know, and you’re all about security, so it makes sense that you could disarm it. I’m guessing it took you all of twenty-two point seven seconds.”
Granny snorts. “Oh, sweetheart, you think I’m losing my touch? Try seven point six.”
“Seven seconds? You got in here in seven seconds?”
“Well, it wasn’t seven, but it was most definitely under eight.”
I applaud Granny, giving her a low whistle. I’m impressed. I knew what Granny was capable of, but still. “So the station wagon is real?”
“As real as real gets.”
“How very nineties of you.” I could use a glass of water. That’s what I came down here for. I help myself by picking up a glass, shoving it under the tap, then taking it over to the table, where I sit down across from the woman responsible for saving my life, giving me a family, teaching me what love is, and teaching me how to be a world-class hacker.
Yeah, about that…I know I need to either stay away from Cass or tell her the truth. There really isn’t room for anything in the middle, and I do know that. I do. Really.
“Nineties?” Granny scoffs. “Station wagons never go out of style. Especially not the ones with wood paneling.”
“That’s the kind you got?”
“No. I got shit brown. That’s all they had that was in running order within a hundred-mile radius. Can you believe that?”
“Honestly, yes.” I do my best to look innocent as Granny stares me down. “So, I think we need to have a conversation about meddling. I’m pretty sure that your coming here isn’t about the pawnshop or Ransom. Unless you have a mission that you want to discuss—a real mission—I’m assuming you’re here because of Cassadina.”
Granny bangs her glass of water down on the table. “Meddling? Pah! This is helping. This is your fairy godmother Granny granting your wishes and helping you charm the girl of your dreams.”
“By suggesting that she bang me in the back of a station wagon?”
“No. By taking her antiquing or to a flea market or a community garage sale day. I have it on good authority from Ayana that Cassadina loves those things more than just about anything. A good bargain is her favorite thing, and nothing beats vintage. You need a big vehicle to take those hauls back. Plus, her family had a station wagon growing up. She loved it.”
“You didn’t. Not really. You couldn’t have.”
Granny throws her head back and cackles. “Come outside and see.”
“I should probably put some pants on.”
“Pants schmants, just peek out the door.”
She’s so eager that I forget about the pants. I can’t believe she really did this. Really? I can’t believe it. No, I’m going to rephrase that. I can believe it. Granny is granny, and there is nothing I wouldn’t put past her. She’s done some wild things in the past. When she met Ayana for the first time, they went to the shooting range and shot some guns—Ayana is the daughter of a biker prez, and she enjoys going to the gun club. Except, Granny couldn’t just shoot guns. No. She had to whip out two Glocks and go double trouble on her target, which pretty much got them kicked out. And they totally would have been if it weren’t for Ayana being a popular member of the gun club because of her dad. So instead, they just got escorted out nicely. Then, Granny took Ayana for coffee and proceeded to grill her for information in a very sweet yet scary Granny way, but ended the morning with her approval and a welcome to the family.
