Jake pulled the BMW up to the house and left it running as he jumped out of the car and ran toward the front door. “Grandma!”
“Jake!” She flew out of the front door, her purse in hand. “Take me to the hospital.”
He paused. She looked absolutely fine. In fact, she had on a nice white pantsuit and her giant black sunglasses. She stomped by him and opened the car’s back door.
“Hi, Char.” She slammed the door behind her.
And then Jake saw the object of her disdain waltz out the door after her.
Petunia.
From the pinched look on her face, Jake could tell it hadn’t been a good meeting. Petunia’s oversized pink cardigan was wrapped around a turtleneck top, even though it was summertime. Nude-colored tights peaked out from beneath a long jeans skirt. The outfit was complete with orthopedic shoes.
“Oh, Jake!” Petunia giggled. “I’ve missed my boy!”
He wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug. “Aunt Petunia, you don’t look a day over fifty.”
“Oh you.” She swatted him with her hand.
Her white hair was pulled in a knot at the top of her head; her overly large glasses slid off her nose. She pushed them up and put her hands on her hips. “She’s not dying, by the way.”
“Yeah, I figured.” Jake looked back at the car, where Grandma had just finished reapplying her lipstick and smacked her lips together.
“She didn’t have a car.” Petunia looked past him. “The rest of the gang ran out to do wedding errands, leaving just me and Nadine to our lonesome.”
“Any blood I have to clean up?” Jake looked behind her into the house. “Or broken dishes? Anything?”
“Of course not.” Petunia sniffled. “I was merely having a conversation with Nadine about her loud outfit.”
“But she’s wearing white.” Jake scratched his head, confused. “Don’t you like white?”
“It’s not the color, dear.” She pointed. “That woman is wearing red spiked heels, and when she showed them to me, do you know what I saw?”
“What?”
“A tattoo!” Petunia wailed and then crossed her heart and pulled out her prayer beads.
“It’s probably fake.” Jake lied. Right; Grandma had probably gotten the tattoo just to piss off her sister.
“It’s not! I asked!” Petunia stuffed her beads back into her shirt and sighed. “I just don’t want her to go to hell. Is that too much to ask?”
“Tattoos don’t send people to hell.”
“You’re right.” Petunia straightened. “God does, and the minute he sees that tattoo all bets are off!” With a huff she turned and walked back into the house.
Women. Rubbing the back of his neck, Jake walked up to the car and knocked
on the window. Grandma lowered it but refused to make eye contact. Just pouted and looked straight ahead.
“Well, go on now.” She licked her lips. “Sass me.”
“Grandma, I’m not going to sass you,” Jake said, flabbergasted. “But why can’t you just try to get along?”
“I wore white!” She pointed her finger in the direction of the house. “And that, that woman, said I was an abomination!”
“Right. So you probably should have hid the tattoo.”
“Mr. Casbon got me that tattoo in Hawaii last winter. It was a gift. I can’t just say no to a gift.”