“I’m surprising Grams.”
“Well, take her some pie, dear.” She scooped out two big pieces and placed them on a paper plate. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that neither of us liked lemon meringue.
“Thank you, Mrs. Richardson.” I smiled and waved as I walked toward my grandma’s apartment.
I rang the bell when I reached her door. I heard her call out, asking who was there.
“It’s me, Grams!” I pushed open the door.
“Milayna!” She wheeled her chair and peered down the hall. “What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s great. I just wanted to visit.” I lifted the plate of pie. “I also have this.” I wrinkled my nose.
“Oh, that must be from Trudy. I told her earlier I didn’t like lemon meringue. She’s gone senile.” I almost laughed out loud. “Well? Come here and give me a kiss,” Grams said.
I dropped the pie on the kitchen counter as I walked by. Leaning down, I kissed Grams’ cheek, giving her shoulders a squeeze. I breathed in her perfume. It reminded me of spending the night with her when I was a little girl. The pillowcases on her bed always smelled of the same perfume: lavender-something, clean and fresh. It brought back so many happy, peaceful memories.
“So. What’s up?”
“Not one for small talk today, huh?” I asked, smiling.
“Not when I can tell something is bothering you.”
“I need to get rid of it, Grandma,” I blurted, then cringed and wished I could suck the words back in. I’d meant to ease into the conversation.
“Milayna.” She sighed and rubbed her forehead. “We’ve been through this.”
“No. There’s a way, I know it.” I sat on the purple couch I loved and leaned in close to Grams.
“Yeah, okay, you can turn.” She swung her arm in the air. “Flip sides. That’ll get rid of it,” she snapped, her voice rising.
I flinched and scooted away from her. “You know I don’t want to do that,” I whispered.
“Then what?” Her graying eyes bored into mine.
I looked down at my lap, twisting my fingers. Shrugging a shoulder, I puffed out a breath to calm my nerves. “It’s hurting the people I love.”
“Tell me what happened, child.” She took my hand in both of hers.
“There’s this boy—”
“Why do all stories start that way?”
I laughed. “Be serious. This boy… I like him a lot, Grams.” I looked in her eyes, hoping she’d see the truth in my next words. “I like him a lot. And I think he likes me. He’s a demi-angel, too, so he knows what it’s like.”
She hummed her agreement. “It does help to have someone understand.” Leaning back in her wheelchair, she got comfortable.
“Well, I met his uncle, who’s a demi-angel, and he’s a really nice guy and he was so sweet to me, and…”
My tears started to flow and nose run. I sniffed loudly. My grandma made a face and handed me a tissue. “Keep going.”
“Well, there were some demons at the football game Friday night. Actually, just one demon, but that was enough.”
“Yeah, you don’t need more than one to ruin a perfectly good evening,” she said matter-of-factly, like we were talking about a bad dinner guest.
“Anyway, the demon got a hold of my foot, and he was dragging me—”
She bolted up in her chair. “Are you all right? What happened? Does your father know?” She fired questions at me, not giving me time to answer.
“Grams, I’m fine. Yes, Dad knows. He was there. And I’m trying to tell you what happened, but you keep interrupting me.” I smiled at her
“Well, you can’t just go around telling an angel that demons are grabbing people and not expect them to get riled up, especially when it involves my granddaughter. Hmph.”
“So this demon gets a hold of me and is dragging me toward a pit straight to, well…”
“Yeah, yeah.” She waved her hand in the air. “Hell. I’ve heard of it once or twice.” She rolled her eyes, and I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. “So? You’re on your way to Hell and…?”
“Well, I’m sure I’m toast. Everyone else was busy fighting, and the demon was so strong I couldn’t fight him off by myself. So this boy’s uncle stepped in. He saved me. Well, he helped hold him off until Chay—that’s the guy—could help.”
“So? I don’t see the problem. A demon is a menace, that’s for sure, but you said yourself you’re okay.” She leaned back in her chair.
“The problem is the next night the uncle’s ice cream parlor burned down for no apparent reason. He was inside. He almost died from smoke inhalation and a heart attack.”
“But he’s all right?”
I flung an arm out from my side. “Yeah, now.”
“It’s upsetting, but I still don’t see what this has to do with you.” Grams shrugged a thin shoulder.
“Ugh, Grams! I caused it.” I slapped my chest with the flat of my hand.
“The fire?” She arched a brow at me.
“Not directly, but I caused it just the same. If he hadn’t helped me, he wouldn’t have almost died.”