Page 96 of Fish out of Water
I tucked my left shoe into my armpit, freeing up my hand to reach for the knob. I twisted and shoved the door wide, bracing my feet, stiletto up and ready to jab whoever had Sylvia.
Two sets of wide eyes stared out at me.
“Sylvia?”
The hand holding the shoe dropped to my side as my brain tried to wrap itself around what I was seeing.
Part of it was pretty self-explanatory. Primarily the pasty white old man ass glaring in the overhead light.
The sound of a camera click dragged my attention from the geriatric butt cheeks.
Sylvia had her phone out and it was pointed right at the old man’s surprisingly stiff crotch rocket.
“What are you doing?”
Sylvia’s expression was shockingly innocent. “What?” She pointed to the man. “Wilfred asked me if I wanted to see his pecker. Told me it still worked.”
“Why are you taking a picture of it?” I cringed as Wilfred turned my way, hands on his hips and a wide smile on his face.
“You don’t see things like this every day, Julia.” She tucked her phone back into the pocket of her dress. “It’s like when you go to see the pyramids. You take a picture to commemorate it.”
“Did you just compare his junk to one of the seven wonders of the world?”
Wilfred nodded, his smile holding up just as well as the fuddy chuddy he sported.
“Jules.” Grant rushed to my side. “What’s wro—” His eyes landed on Wilfred’s trousergeist. “Jesus Christ.”
“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain, Grant.”
He looked from Sylvia to Wilfred. “You’re locked in a closet with a half-naked man. I don’t think you’re in any position to give me shit.”
“What’s going on?” Elaine rushed in at my other side with Michael right behind her. She skidded to a stop. “Mother.”
Wilfred continued to grin, his pants around his ankles as what I was beginning to believe was a medically created disco stick steadfastly pointed our way.
“No more White Claw.” Grant edged into the room, going just far enough he could reach Sylvia. He grabbed her, pulling her from the back of the closet and out into the hall.
“I wasn’t gonna touch it.” Sylvia scowled his way. “Not that I couldn’t.” She crossed her arms. “I’ve seen more than a few knobgoblins in my life, Granty.”
“I don’t want to know this.” He pushed his grandmother down the hall. “I don’t want to know any of this.”
“I’m old. I’m not dead.” Sylvia looked straight at me. “Julia knows. She gets it.”
She wasn’t wrong.
I was all for women living however they wanted, unapologetically.
And that included Nonna Sylvia.
“Please have our cars pulled around, Michael.” Elaine was perfectly poised as she walked behind Grant and Sylvia, headed for the same door we went out yesterday.
Was I ever going to get to walk back out the front of this place?
Or leave under normal circumstances?
I glanced at my companions, catching the wink Sylvia shot me over one shoulder.
I was definitely always going out the back door here.
