Page 47 of Fast and Dirty

“I already go there a lot!” I holler back towards her, indicating that I can only go hang out in a bar so much.

“Because it’s fun!” She argues. “It’s Friday night, you should go!”

“I’m really not up for it, Ag,” I call back again. “I really want to lay low for the night.”

“Then go lay low with that thirst trap of a mechanic!”

“He’s got some kind of poker night going on!”

“What?!” She screeches back in horror.

I sit up, starting to feel my eyebrows stitch together in curiosity. “Agnes, why do I get the feeling you’re trying to get rid of me?” Something else occurs to me. “Like every Friday and the occasional Saturday?”

“Hogwash!” She yells, poo-poo-ing my theory. “I’m just trying to make sure you young pups get your kicks while you can!”

Before I can come up with a rebuttal, there’s a slight knock at the front door and I hear a familiar voice call up the stairs.

“Gramma?”

“Hattie!” Toby and I both cheerfully hop off my bed like excited kids.

“Hattie,” Agnes, echoes in a put-off tone. I’m about to ask her why she’s being so crotchety when a heavenly smell wafts up the stairs. Deciding that getting in on whatever kind of pizza Hattie is toting is more important that seeing what’s up Agnes’s ass, I barrel down the stairs and find Hattie in a pair of yoga pants, a slouchy t-shirt and her gorgeous cinnamon-sugar colored hair piled on top of her head. As suspected, she’s accessorizing with a pizza box that says she’s ready for a night on the couch. That sounds amazing.

“I don’t suppose you brought enough to share?” I ask, as Toby brings up my rear.

“Is Hendrix with you?” He peers over my shoulder and past Hattie, brows hopefully raised.

Hattie’s mouth opens as she looks between all of us. “Uh…actually I’ve had a hell of a week and really wanted to veg out with some movies?”

“Great idea! Kick it on over to Hattie’s!” Agnes bellows down the stairs, still not actually in sight.

“Gramma!” Hattie calls up after her. “Half my furniture hasn’t been delivered yet! Let’s hang here!”

“No! I’ve got plans!”

“Doing what?” Hattie challenges, leaning back against the door, her arms crossed, holding the pizza level against her. Silence follows her question for a few beats before Agnes finally responds.

“I’m…preparing for a colonoscopy.”

Hattie huffs, with an eyeroll, clearly having enough as she pushes off the door. “You don’t believe in those, and tomorrow’s Saturday! Now, you wouldn’t let me move in here with you?—”

“You won’t make me any great-grandbabies if you’re living with me!” Agnes interjects but Hattie is undeterred.

“The least you can do is hang out with me for a night!”

“I’ll hang out with you,” I raise my hand, volunteering as tribute.

“Thank you.” Hattie gives me a soft look, and there’s a rap onthe side door near the kitchen. Hattie’s eyes narrow skeptically as she heads in that direction, and I hear Agnes mutter “Dammit,” upstairs.

I follow Hattie through the house as she sets the pizza down on the kitchen table and finds the side door off the kitchen. I’m on her heels when she whips it open to reveal two elderly gentleman that look like they teleported from the roaring twenties.

“Can I help you two?” Hattie looks quizzically at them.

My gaze falls on the one with the fedora and cigar.

“Do I know you?” I squint my eyes and hold up a hesitant finger in his direction.

He takes the cigar out of his mouth. and is about to answer when Agnes takes another year off my life - and Hattie’s - by startling the hell out of us.

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