Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74794 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74794 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
The mystery of it is perhaps the most frightening part of all.
Mary’s eyes track down to my stomach, the green of her eyes darker than a stretch of golf course grass. “And welcome to the family too, little one.” Her fingers clench mine tightly. “I might seem scary now, or weird, or rude and mean, but one day, you’ll love me, I’ll love you back, and we’ll laugh about this. Until then, know that as long as you aren’t in it to screw us over and you’re being real, you don’t just have your dad or his biker brothers’ protection anymore. You have mine and all my grandson’s protection as well, and that means something. It truly does.” She slowly retracts her hand, and I let mine fall to the table since I’m basically stunned into immobility.
This lady might be the most mercurial granny on the planet. She can go from sweet as peachy pie to…well, palming two Glocks in the span of a few seconds. Now she’s making it seem like the protection of my dad would be secondary to hers. What kind of crazy shit is this? What’s she involved with? The dang mafia?
Oh shit. Oh shit, shit, shit, that better not be true.
“My grandson is a sweet boy underneath all those scars and that ink and the scary look. As you already alluded to. Of all my grandchildren, he’s the gruffest and the toughest and the roughest around the edges. He had a rough go of it until I found him, and by then, everyone thought it was too late. They’d given up on him—each and every person who had failed him. Imagine that. Fuckheads that they were.”
Holy shit, did she just say fuckheads? It’s kind of delightfully delicious to hear a senior citizen curse, but Mary is no regular old granny. It’s still awesome, though.
“It took him a long time to realize what it was like to be safe and loved. It might be hard to see, as you said, but he has a beautiful heart and soul. He’s a masterpiece, just like great art, a good book, dew drops on a blade of grass, a perfectly crisped piece of bacon, or a fully formed turd in the litter box are masterpieces.”
“Errmmm, turd?”
“Ever owned a cat?”
Is it strange that I think things are getting borderline weird because talk of turds is the thing I consider peculiar after all the other stuff I’ve just witnessed? “I can’t say that I have.”
“Well, you come to realize real fast the miracles of poo placed in a properly designated area. You also learn real fast not to make your fur roomie mad because you’ll get a perfectly formed turd on your pillow or your couch or in your sink. Hmm, but what was I saying? Oh, yes. My grandson. He’s a masterpiece, and his heart is a work of art, and I won’t have it stomped on by some…well, just stomped on.”
Even though she managed to filter out what she was going to say, I still caught the gist of it. I really have to struggle not to smile. I don’t want Mary to think I’m not taking her seriously, but I have to press, I suppose, because it’s in my nature to be a little bit crass myself. “By what?”
“Nothing.”
“Finish it.”
“I did.”
“You were going to say hussy.”
Mary grins at me much too eagerly. “No, but I like that.” She cackles. Fast as can be, she whips out a small notebook and a tiny pink pen from her purse. No, it’s not a granny purse. It happens to be a designer tote bag. “Hold on, let me write that down.” She jots some notes and then peeks under the table at my combat boots. “Just don’t use those fancy boots to wreck my grandson’s heart, and we won’t have a problem.” She says this in a sort of menacing way that would pair well with a good fist-shaking.
“You don’t have to worry. I don’t plan on it. No stomping intended. Not one bit.”
“Good.”
“So, about the turds…”
“I don’t want to elaborate on the turds. It makes me miss Mr. Buster Boo; god bless his little furry feline soul.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.”
Mary nods. “But about my grandson. It’s my job as his granny to keep him safe. Sorry if I came across as harsh. I was only trying to warn you off if you were a baddie, but I can see you’re sincere. So, all I have to say is this: Treat him how you would want to be treated. Isn’t that the golden rule that everyone seems to forget? Friendship or romance, whatever blossoms between you two, do your best to earn his trust and his heart because once those are given, he’ll never take it back. He’s the most loyal person you’ll ever meet.”