Nina stepped up behind me; she had no reflection, but I could feel the cool air coming off her body in waves. I shivered.
“Do you like, have to say a magic phrase or something ?”
I shot Nina an Are you kidding me? look and hugged my arms. “She comes out to give me warnings about nothing and to watch Alex in the bathroom, but when I really need her, she’s not here.” I narrowed my eyes. “I bet she’s with Ed McMahon.” I paused, an idea edging its way from my periphery. “I’m going to Cala Foods.”
Nina blinked. “You’re going to the grocery store?”
I snatched my keys from the rack and hiked my shoulder bag up. “Be back in twenty.”
I pulled into the parking lot of our local twenty-four-hour grocery, thanking the god of parking and permits that he had allowed Cala Foods the measly six-spot piece of earth where I parked my car. Parking might not mean a lot to most people, but to a city girl like me, a spot within the area code you intended to visit is worthy of celebration.
I dug my hands into my pockets, shuddering against the biting San Francisco summer and entering the store, heading for the produce department and stopping in front of a pyramid of half-priced melon. I slipped one into my basket.
I looked at the cantaloupe I had selected, bit my lip, and then heaved two more in, just in case Grandma was going to be initially uncooperative. I dropped a package of Snausages in there for ChaCha and two more boxes of marshmallow Pinwheels for myself. I paused, and then cleaned out the entire Pinwheel shelf.
I lugged my stash to my car, the solid cantaloupes finding their way to the bottom of my pink canvas shopping bag and bopping painfully against my shins as I hurried. At home, I hefted the melons onto my counter and pulled out a butcher knife, slicing into the first piece of fruit after checking the reflection in the knife’s steel blade. I halved the first melon and then leaned in, whispering to the pale orange flesh.
“Grandma?”
I tried the other half. “Grandma?”
I slopped the silent melon halves into the sink and sliced into the next fruit. “Grandma?” I shouted.
“Um, Sophie?”
I whirled around to see Nina standing behind me, her cocoa-butter tan even more outstanding now that she had changed into a hot-pink Juicy Couture tracksuit. “What are you doing?”
I put my melon-soaked hands on my hips and sighed. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
“It looks like you’re talking to fruit. Fruit that you’ve named Grandma. Maybe you want to sit down. Sit down for a bit while I call the doctor?” Nina moved to the wall and picked up the phone.
I frowned. “No. I’m perfectly fine.” I looked back at my melons. “Okay, I guess this looks a little weird. It’s that ...”
“Sophie!”
Both Nina and I snapped to look at the face in the fruit as it beckoned to us. Grandma looked from side to side. “What’s with all the cantaloupe?”
“I was looking for you everywhere!” I said, as if there were a natural connection between communication and cantaloupe.
Grandma raised her bushy grey eyebrows in the sly, sexy fashion that grandmothers should never use in front of their grandchildren. “Sorry, I was indisposed. Turns out Ed McMahon and I got along better than I expected.”
I crossed my arms in front of my chest, my hip jutting out in instinctual irritated-teenager fashion. “You mean you were canoodling with Ed McMahon in my moment of need?”
Grandma sucked her teeth and looked annoyed. “Sophie, you’re a grown woman and lately, you have a lot of moments of need.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Sometimes your grandma has her own moments of need.”
Nina pressed her palms over her ears and clamped her eyes shut. “Okay, I don’t know what’s weirding me out more: seeing your grandmother in half a cantaloupe, or hearing that Granny’s getting it on with Ed McMahon posthumously.”
I gave Nina a dirty look and turned back to Gram. “This is serious. Grandma, I met Will Sherman today.”
Grandma blinked, her eyes flat in the cantaloupe flesh. “Is he some sort of rapper or something?”
“Will Sherman, Grandma,” I enunciated. “My guardian? You know, because I’m the Vessel of Souls.”
Grandma paled, despite the fleshy orange cantaloupe color. “How do you know that?” she asked, her voice a hoarse rasp.
“Did you know I was the Vessel of Souls, Grandma?”
Grandma nodded very slowly.
“And you didn’t tell me?” My voice was rising to near hysterics. “How could you not tell me that I was a Vessel?”
Grandma rolled her cantaloupe-colored eyes. “Please, Sophie. You locked yourself in your bedroom and cried for two months straight when I said you were going to have to get braces. I didn’t think telling you that you were a supernatural holding tank would go over all that well. So sue me!”