Chapter 52
"Guess what?" Josh said.
From the look on his face, it was obviously good news. "You got all A's again?"
"No." He gave me an aw-shucks smile. "Yeah, well, I did. But this is even better."
I gave Grandma a sideways glance. She hadn't said one word about the so-called good news since I'd arrived. Her lips were pursed as she crammed another flyer into its envelope.
The flyer – an advertisement for some fictional cat-training video – showed two fluff-ball kittens surrounded by loose yarn and shredded bed pillows.
"This is bullshit," Grandma said as she folded another flyer and crammed it, hard, into its envelope. "Everyone knows you can't train a cat. Whoever did this flyer is a dipshit."
As the dipshit designer – even if Grandma wasn't aware of this fact – I felt compelled to disagree. "Sure you can." I pointed to the promotional text. "Nine out of ten vets agree. See?"
Grandma gave a dismissive snort. "Then they're dipshits, too."
"Vets are never dipshits," I said.
"Yeah? Then the company's full of shit. Probably made the whole thing up. Bet they wouldn't know a real cat if it bit 'em on the face." She frowned. "In fact, I wish a cat would bite 'em on the face. Would serve 'em right."
Without thinking, I reached a hand up to my face. When Grandma looked up, I pretended to scratch my nose.
Actually, there was no such company, and no such product. But that was my little secret, along with the fact that Grandma's so-called job was a sham. She refused to accept charity of any sort, even from me.
She was a smart lady, but had no real job skills, no car, and no driver's license or interest in getting one.
So a couple years ago, I'd invented this little envelope-stuffing job. It wasn't much, but it paid her rent, and kept her entertained. Today, the entertainment seemed more of the kill-the-graphic-designer variety.
I glanced at the flyer. "I thought you liked cats."
"Yeah, and I like 'em too much to subject 'em to this horseshit." She glanced down to the paper in her hand. "Precocious to perfect, my ass."
"Hey," Josh said, "doesn't anyone care what I have to say?"
Oh, I cared alright. But not in the way Josh thought. He was happy. Grandma was mad. And soon, I'd be in the middle. And there was only one person who caused this particular dynamic.
My mom.
I turned to Josh. "Sorry," I said. "What's your news?"
He grinned. "Mom's invited us over for Thanksgiving."
It was official. Thanksgiving was my least favorite holiday, ever. "Oh that's really nice," I said. "But we already have plans."
"That's the best part," Josh said. "She said we could do it on Friday. You know, the day after?"
I blew out a breath. Two days of family fun. How did I ever get so lucky?
Josh's smile faded. "Aren't you happy?"
"Yeah. Totally." I summoned up a smile of my own. "But you know how hectic her schedule is."
Boozing, sleeping all day, hanging out with random losers, it was a real time sink. It didn't just keep her away from her kids. It kept her away from gainful employment, which was probably just fine with her.
"I mean, it sounds like fun," I said, "but we probably shouldn’t get our hopes up."
"She's not gonna cancel this time," Josh said. "She promised."
I gave a small nod. "That's good."
"Remember that last apple pie?" Josh said. "Oh man, that was the best, ever."
I nodded. I remembered the pie perfectly. I was the one who made it. Mommy Dearest? She was too busy being passed out on the kitchen floor. It was three o'clock in the morning, and I'd come home from waitressing find her lying there with a half-empty bottle of apple schnapps.
It would be funny if it weren't so pathetic.
"Maybe she'll make it again," Josh said as he got up from his seat and headed off toward the bathroom."
"Or maybe," Grandma muttered after the door closed behind him, "some cat'll chew her face off first."
I felt myself nod. Better hers than mine.
On my way out, Grandma handed me a huge white envelope containing something flat and stiff. "Just in case," she said.
I looked down. "Just in case what?"
"In case they don't pay. You know, the house-sitting people."
"But they did pay," I said.
"Yeah, but you got another payment due next week, right?"
I felt my eyebrows furrow. "Yeah?"
"So, if they don't pay, you give 'em that."
I made a move to open the envelope.
"Hey, not in front of the kid," Grandma said.
I glanced past her, into the cottage, where Josh still was still sitting at the kitchen table. He caught my eye and grinned. The way it looked, Grandma's secret message wasn't as secret as she seemed to think.
"I'll open it when I get back," I assured her.
"Good girl."
When I pulled into the Parkers' driveway twenty minutes later, I couldn't wait a second longer. I opened the envelope and pulled out what was inside.
As I looked down, I couldn't help but smile.
It was a single sheet of lined notebook paper. Pasted crookedly across the sheet were a series of capital letters, obviously cut from the local newspaper.
Unable to resist, I read the ransom note aloud in my best tough-guy voice. "Pay up, or the dog gets it."
I was still laughing when I walked into the house.