Page 54 of Moonshine Kiss
They all shut up real fast.
“Now, tell me who threw the stool so we can get on with it.” Bootleg Justice required the instigators of bar fights to participate in the clean-up as well as paying for any property damage.
“I’m tellin’ you! It was Gert!” Myrt shouted.
“I was mindin’ my own business, trying to climb up on that stool and it slipped right out from under me,” Gram-Gram insisted.
“It slipped out from under you through a plate glass window and into the parking lot?” I asked wishing to God it had been my father who responded to the call.
“Between you and me,” Gram-Gram said in a stage whisper, “the floors in here are real greasy. Just like the food. I’m surprised it doesn’t happen more often.”
“Hey, now!” Nicolette said, taking offense.
Gram-Gram shot her a beaming smile. This was part of her street cred, lying to the authorities—usually her family—about whatever mess she’d stirred up.
“Okay, this is how it’s gonna go. Y’all are going to clean up every bingo card and broken shard of glass. Gram-Gram, since the floor is so slippery, you’re gonna mop it and then reimburse Nicolette here for the window. Then I’m going to drive you home and decide what kind of fine I’m gonna slap you with.”
Gram-Gram pouted prettily, adjusting her pink frame glasses.
“Anyone have any problems with that?” I demanded.
“No, ma’am,” they barked in unison.
“Good.”
The soggy and chastised elderly of Bootleg Springs hopped to, pulling out brooms and dustpans, righting tables, and straightening chairs. Nicolette handed my grandmother a mop. “You know where the bucket is.”
An hour later, with The Lookout sparkling clean, the window boarded up, and the geriatric population on its way home to bed, I plunked Gram-Gram in my back seat. It wasn’t a police cruiser, but she still had a reputation to uphold.
“When are you gonna stop causing trouble on Bingo Night?” I asked.
“When are you gonna start having something to do instead of fixin’ trouble on Bingo Night?” she countered.
“Tonight.”
She hmm-ed knowingly. “I thought you looked a little hot and bothered. Did you swipe right on a hot one?” she asked.
“We’re not discussing this.”
“Did he have a man bun?” Gram asked. “I love a good man bun! I wish Marvin could have one but his combover won’t reach.”
“It wasn’t a man,” I lied. “It was a bat. It flopped my face.”
Gram shifted gears into caring grandparent. “Poor sweetie! I hope it didn’t bite you.”
I turned onto Spirits Lane. “No. Bowie caught it in my gym bag and he and Jonah released it into the wild.”
“Bowie, huh?” Gram mused pointedly. “When are you two gonna quit dancin’ around it and get naked already?” Gram-Gram had two boyfriends and another in the hopper in case one of the other two became defective or up and died.
* * *
I droppedGram off at her cute little brick-front row home. She waved to me from her front step like I’d chauffeured her to and from church.
Suddenly irretrievably exhausted, I headed home. I squeezed my car into the garage and trudged up the walkway toward my back porch.
“Everything okay at Bingo Night?” Bowie was leaning on a porch post on his side of the railing.
I paused on the step and climbed up to his level.
