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Granny shrugs. “That’s right. If it’s going to play out, I want to at least be involved. You know we have to start making plans if you want to be left behind like your brothers. I mean, settle down and be happy with the loves of their lives, or if you want to bring her into the fold the way Lennox did with Cass.”
“It’s been all of a week, and I haven’t even asked her out! Not properly! And everything I’ve told her about me is a lie.”
Granny ignores the sadness in my voice. “Everything you told her was a lie because it has to be.”
“It really didn’t. I could have told her there was a mistake. That we fixed computers. And asked for her number anyway or accidentally-on-purpose bumped into her somewhere. I shouldn’t have taken things so far.”
“No, but you were determined. There was no stopping you. You had to do it, and now we’re here, so the question is, how much further are you going to take it? Are you going to keep wooing her? Tell her the truth? Either way, I checked the account I made for you last night, and this might be the world’s most expensive first date.”
“Historically, that would be untrue,” I huff. “And it’s not a date. I mean, it’s not now because you’re third wheeling it.”
Granny cackles. “You mean you didn’t have the balls to ask her out properly, so you had to ask her out for a task and mix it up with lunch.”
“Just for once. For once, Granny, it would be awesome if you could keep the smart-aleckery to a minimum. Just for like two seconds.”
Granny’s lips compress into a thin line, then her eyes sweep to the rearview mirror, and she holds up a finger. “You gonna get going again, or are you just going to let us sit here and get punched up the ass by someone who’s pissed that you’re blocking the road or who just isn’t paying attention and is about to have a very bad day?”
I shake myself mentally and gun my foot down on the gas so hard that the car rockets forward, nearly slamming straight into the bumper of a car backed up by a long stream of traffic. I curse under my breath as Granny jerks in her seat. She just grins at me.
“Okay, it’s been two seconds. Can I start speaking my mind again?”
“No! Please! Granny. Just…just for the rest of today, please don’t make any life decisions, good or bad. Don’t make any judgments, and don’t be all crass and full of your usual Granny humor. And please, for the love of sweet, juicy pineapples, do not pull out your Glocks.”
Granny settles lower in her seat, crosses her arms, and pouts at me. “What fun are you?”
“I didn’t ask you to come on this!”
“No, but it’s clear you need me to. You’re never going to man up and ask that girl out otherwise.”
“So you’re here because you’re going to what? Do it for me?”
“Don’t underestimate me.”
I sigh gustily as I navigate the car into a spot in front of the antique store. It’s not really in the warehouse or industrial end. It’s actually smack dab in the middle of downtown, but the building looks like an old flour factory. It could very well have been an old something or other, though maybe not flour. Perhaps motors or radios or really tall stilettos or paint. I have no idea. It’s three stories tall and solid brick, but they’ve been painted over in beige, and they have tiny, industrial-looking windows.
I should be glad that Granny is suddenly on board with this. That she’s making plans to include Victoria and wants me to ask her out. But honestly, though? It’s more terrifying of a prospect to let Granny be the one in the driver’s seat. We’ve done everything as a family in the past, but I really wouldn’t mind doing this alone. And what I mean by this is kind of having a first date. Because honestly, I’ve never been on a real date with anyone before.
Granny squints at the building as I pull up. “Looks like a post-apocalyptic stronghold to me. You’re sure this place is good?”
“It has just enough good reviews saying that everything is priced fair, there are three floors of antiques plus a basement, and the owner is quite eccentric to make it pass as a place that one would like to shop at. Plus, they have photos online and a good social media presence, so I can act like I know exactly where I’m going. Furniture is on the third floor.”
“Yes. A most excellent place to have very heavy, built to survive zombies, doesn’t come apart because this ain’t the present day kind of things.”
“Stop,” I grind out, shutting off the car. “What’s with you and zombies and apocalypses anyway? Are you researching for a mission I don’t know about?”
