Or maybe she’d save it until I really do shuck off the mortal—I have no doubt that even at her advanced age, Granny could outlive every single one of us, should that make her two hundred years old or not—and she’d get the contract engraved onto my headstone.
Granny starts buzzing around her state-of-the-art kitchen as soon as we walk in the patio door. Elodie walks over to the island and pulls up a seat, and I follow her. Through the huge windows that line a good part of the kitchen, I can see Jeffers digging a second hole in the backyard. I smile despite myself, but then my smile falls. On the one hand, the yard is fenced, so Jeffers is safe back there and can dig all the holes he likes. But on the other hand, Granny will have to get someone to come and fix the lawn. She’ll probably hire someone inappropriate for her, age-wise, and come out and try to seduce them.
Ugh. More shudders.
“Sooooooo….” Elodie prompts, giving me the stink eye.
Right. I’m here for a reason, and ruining my grandmother’s lawn isn’t the reason. Well, not the main reason anyway. “I want to know about the curse,” I start, my voice wavering even though I’m trying to be all brave and take no prisoners and nonsense.
“What about it?” Granny shrugs as she cracks an egg into the frying pan.
“You know what. Why did you give the brooch to Elodie?”
Granny titters under her breath and reaches for another egg. “Oh, sweetheart, you know.”
I roll my eyes and glance at Elodie. She’s biting down on her bottom lip, hard, like she does when she’s nervous. Of course she’s nervous. I’m surprised I’m not ripping my hair out by now.
“Why don’t you tell us, so we don’t make assumptions.”
Crack. Sizzle. Another egg hits the pan. “You know what they say about assumptions. They make an ass out of you.”
“That’s not how that goes,” I growl.
Granny cracks another egg. She’s probably on the eighth or ninth egg now, and I’m not sure how much she thinks we can actually stomach when we’re facing a curse of her own making. Who on earth would be hungry at a time like this?
After all the eggs are in the frying pan, Granny grabs a metal flipper and goes to town, scrambling them all over the place. She walks over to a fridge that is at least eight times the size of a normal fridge and pulls out bacon, mushrooms, peppers, olives, cheese, tomatoes, onions, and hot sauce. She’s going to make her famous Granny Scramble.
Curse be damned, I find my mouth watering.
“Granny?” I prompt. In the yard, Jeffers starts in on another hole, digging away at it as if his life depends on it.
“Why do you think I gave Elodie the brooch?” Granny’s tone indicates I’m a dumbass, but she doesn’t wait for either of us to give her an answer. “It’s because you’re both perfect for each other. The both of you have been best friends forever, and you both always have each other’s backs and know each other better than anyone else does. Besides that, you’re both good problem solvers together, you’ve both seen the absolute worst of each other, and both of you know each other’s faults and still choose to be friends. You have all the good qualities that long-lasting couples have, and you’ve already been practicing them for ages. Lastly, it’s obvious. You’re both in love with each other.”
“Not that kind of love!” I yelp.
Elodie stares at my Granny hard, but it doesn’t seem like a frantic help me, you crazy old biddy kind of a stare.
“Isn’t it?” Granny asks, giving me a stare too, but hers is the kind of stare that says she’s right, and it seems to be telling me that soon, I’ll figure it out if I pull my head out from between my butt cheeks. “Or could it be?” She leaves with that ominous question to start cutting up vegetables to add to the pan. She does it with such practice that the eggs aren’t even burning.
Elodie gasps when she raises her head and notices Jeffers. “Oh my god,” she whimpers. “My dog is wrecking your whole yard. I don’t know what’s gotten into him.”
“Probably thinks he’s saving me time by digging all those new holes. I’ll have to get to work this afternoon and bury all the money I have stashed under my mattress. It’s getting so hard and high under there that I can’t sleep.”
Honestly, I want to believe she’s kidding, and I’m sure Elodie does too. However, we both know there’s nothing we can put past my grandmother. The backyard is probably full of cash, as is every object in the house. She has bank accounts, but she’d do something like that just for the thrill of it.