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“You’re doing it,” Granny insists firmly. “Don’t make me fly all the way there, Lennox. Because if I do…”
“You’ll what? Hug me and bake me a pie instead of making me hunt down a place that makes pies that aren’t ever going to be as good as yours?”
Granny might be a Glock-toting, hacker badass of an older lady, but she’s still our granny above all, and she loves us more than anything in the world. The five of us, who she adopted and gave a better life when we were cruising straight for incarceration or worse, are probably some of the only people who get to see her softer side. I guess that’s what happens when the mafia murders your husband, and you vow revenge on almost all organized crime, train as a hacker badass in order to take them down, and—
“Lennox? That’s exactly what I’ll do. I’ll smother you with so much love that you’ll wish you’d just taken the girl out for lunch. It’s just one lunch.”
“She thinks I’m her good luck charm. It’s weird. And untrue. Wait, let me guess. She has something big coming up, so she needs to brush my shoulder again while pretending she’s not doing it and then eat pie and fries because it’s a weird superstition she has?”
Granny huffs. “Just take her to lunch, please. She’s going to be coming to the pawnshop at noon. You’ll do it with a smile on your face because she’s a nice girl and the best friend of your brother’s girlfriend, and she’s had a run of it, let me tell you that. She truly does have shit luck, and yes, she needs a solid.”
I want to squeeze the banana until it turns into banana mush, which wouldn’t really be that far off from where it is now because aren’t all ripe bananas basically mush? I mean, have you ever tried to eat one quietly? Right, you can’t. Because they’re so mushy. You want to learn the art of torture? Tie someone up and bring a banana into a room with you. Then, slowly bite off a bit, lean in next to their ear, and chew. Chew, chew, chew. Mmmm, good bananas.
It would work. I keep telling Granny that, but since she’s not in the business of face-to-face torture—she prefers the more subtle ruining empires of crime through online methods—she hasn’t implemented it yet.
“If I take her to lunch,” I say carefully. “Can this be the last penance I pay for kidnapping her? And can this be the last matchmaking attempt? Because it’s never, ever going to happen. Also, can I come back to Switzerland soon? I miss the twins.”
“Your mission is to protect your brother, Ayana, and Maya right now until they’re settled into this thing called being a family.”
“They’re more than settled. They’re fine.”
Granny makes a displeased granny noise in her throat. “Take her to lunch, and we’ll talk. Maybe I’m working on something for you close by. I can’t tell you yet, but we’ll probably be joining you soon. Stay put, stay tight, keep your whities tightie, and stay undercover.”
“As if you have to tell me that. And for the love of god, don’t talk about underwear.”
“I know I don’t, and fine. Just hang tight, okay, Len? I know this is a lot for you, but I really do appreciate it. And for lunch? Get gravy with the fries, and don’t forget the cherry pie, of course. Eat a slice for me.”
I wish I could throttle my phone, but I kind of need it. I could buy another, but it’s such a pain in the ass. I already own no less than twenty different ones, and it’s hard to keep them straight. “I know what you’re doing, Granny, I swear,” I say with about as much cheerfulness as a goat getting poked in the arse with a stick by some banana-selling kid.
Humming. That’s right. All I get is humming—Granny humming jovially into the phone.
“It’s not going to happen.”
More humming. “I absolutely don’t know what you’re referring to.”
“Granny, just so you know, I’d rather have my ass hairs tweezed by industrious monkeys than go on something that’s considered a date.”
“Why on earth would you do that when waxing is so much easier and more effective?”
“Granny….”
“Love you. Bye now.”
The line goes dead, and I’m left staring at the banana peel on my desk. I pluck it up and throw it in the trash can. Then I check my phone just because I want to see what time it is, and my email dings, so I check that too.
Awesome. Yup. Of course, it’s from Granny. She’s sent me a gift certificate to a salon not far from here for waxing.
Despite the great amount of annoyance that I feel at having my life meddled in and trifled with like this, I do crack a smile. Then I check the time, and my smile fades. Great. I have roughly two hours to prepare for the strawberry blonde, blue-eyed tornado who is going to crash through here.
