CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Gazing through the window, Cassidy saw her house come into view. As Davis pulled into her driveway, she glanced to Cliff who was in the backseat. “You go in, I’ll be right behind.”

“Okay.” Cliff responded automatically, his eyes peering over her shoulder to the house. An eyebrow cocked upwards, he pointed out, “G. Hazel is having a party. I hope the pinchers aren’t here. There’s a hole in my peacock suit.”

Looking, Cassidy could only roll her eyes. Her grandmother would probably charge them to get into her own house.

As Cliff climbed out, then turned and gave them a mock salute, Cassidy closed the door behind him. Turning, she gazed over to Davis and started, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Davis questioned, though his voice was soft. Too soft.

Cassidy wasn’t fooled. She had eaten a zebra that night, after all. She had two tigers within, both sleeping currently, but hey- tigers were smart. They could sniff anything out.

Folding her arms across her chest, Cassidy tried for an all-wise and knowing look. Apparently she failed.

Davis asked, “Are you okay? You look congested.”

Sighing, Cassidy tried for honesty, “Alright, buddy, I can tell something’s wrong. What’s wrong? And I am sorry...for tonight. For Charlie Frost. For Leslie.”

“You shouldn’t be the one apologizing for Leslie.” Davis said shortly, his eyes staring straight ahead. Trying to burn a hole in Cassidy’s garage. Or maybe her treehouse.

With a small sense of alarm, Cassidy realized her treehouse looked like it could fall over any moment. She’d had it built when she was two.

But the treehouse wasn’t on the current agenda. Davis was. And Leslie. And who should be the one making excuses for her.

Which reminded Cassidy, “No, I should. I think.”

Davis glanced through the corner of his eyes her way. A half smile forming, he said, “Cassidy, it’s because of me that Leslie is all stalker-ish.”

“Actually, Leslie hasn’t been around all week. How do stalkers stalk when they’re sick?” Cassidy couldn’t help but wonder.

Hearing a chuckle escape his form, Cassidy felt a moment of triumph. As his hand reached out and entwined with hers, she melted. Again. Pretty soon she’d be cawing like a lovebird. Or...cooing? Her arms were already feeling the urge to fluff out her arms like wings and snuggle closer to her honey.

Davis probably wouldn’t like being compared to a lovebird. He could be a lovey...panther?

“Thanks.” Davis said now, pulling her closer, into his arms.

“For what?”

“For...just being you, I guess.” Kissing her softly, Davis pulled back and persisted, his voice serious, “But, really, don’t feel responsible for Leslie. I’ll deal with her tomorrow. She’ll leave you alone from now on.”

“Huh...Davis, I don’t think you need to worry about that. I put the fear of all that’s religious in her tonight. Plus, I never pulled out the moves my Grandma taught me.” Shaking her head swiftly, Cassidy beamed, “Nothing to worry about.” Snapping her fingers together, she grinned cockily, “I got it in the bag.” Shrugging one shoulder, “Besides, I’m always backed up by Clarise and Cliff. You might not know it, but the Triple C’s are quite formidable when we want to be. I hear Becky Langer has a catheter now...instant pee-age.”

“Alright, then. I’ll leave Leslie to you, but I’m going to head back. Have a little chat with some of those body-builders. Frost was the one dared, but his buddies need to be reminded about some stuff.” But Cassidy could tell he’d take it easy on them. Even though Davis was seriously one of the scariest guys at school, he’d turned out to be noble. And protective.

The lovebird was cooing, some x-rated images coming to mind that included a lovey dovey panther.

Life was good.

Smiling, Cassidy reached for the doorhandle. Sliding out of the vehicle, she turned back and said cheekily, “Don’t be too hard on them. And keep your nose from their arm pits. I think my nose was singed...for life.”

“Have fun at your grandma’s party.” Davis gave a short wave before pulling out of the driveway.

Walking to her house, Cassidy took a deep breath just before walking in her back door.

She was glad. The extra oxygen proved precious as she took in the mass of bodies. Grandma Hazel could just roll right over Seetler’s party. On a log barrel.

Cassidy didn’t even know her house could house that many people. Sure the fire code was seriously being violated, Cassidy went in search for her Grandma. Or even Cliff.

Maybe she could sleep at Cliff’s that night, on his couch.

“Cassidy! Girl. Get over here.” Came G. Hazel’s shrill voice over the party noises.

Glancing around. Again. For the millionth time, Cassidy finally spotted her grandma’s skinny form. Standing in the middle of their living room. Waving a wad of cards in her hand, a bright green visor adorning her head, wearing a checkered vest, and red pants.

Her grandma was a fashion icon. Of the visually deprived, textures being the only rule.

Cassidy’s eyes hurt.

Walking over, Cassidy saw that Cliff was tucked between two elderly men on the couch. His eyes darting from one to the other, panic shining brightly from the glazed look in his pupils. Holding his breath so tightly, Cassidy saw his chest fully expanded. It was about to pop.

He wasn’t in biology class anymore. No sleeping or daydreaming. If he nodded off, his life might be in jeopardy.

Sighing, Cassidy weaved her way to her grandma’s form. Which was jumping up and down, yelling, “Hold em. Hold em. Throw em.”

“Grandma! These people need to leave.” Cassidy said forcefully, her eyes skimming over the crowd. Seeing card tables set up in every corner. Hattie with her blue fanny pack in another corner, hands on her hips, and her neck bobbing back and forward. Lenora standing in the corner, trapped by Hattie, eyes relaying that she was frightened for her life. The senior pincher was in a rage. Finally venting her angst about her waist bag idea being ripped off by the pink-doily-walker-wearing fraud.

“Grandma.” Cassidy said again, her voice finally reaching to Grandma Hazel’s hyperactive ears.

Shaking her head quickly, Grandma Hazel said, “No, no, no.” Then, throwing her cards in the air, she called again, “Hold em. Hold em. Throw em.”

As they landed, G. Hazel’s eyes lit up, reading a Queen coming to land atop the pile. Smiling widely, she said primly, her hands on her hips, her eyes going from one body to the next surrounding her playing circle. “I win. Again. Now pay up, laddies and gents.”

Leroy grudgingly reached in and pulled out a wad of cash. Rising awkwardly, his crutch coming to rest underneath his shoulder, he muttered, “Fine. Here, Hazel. You wiped me out.” Shrugging, he commented, “I should get back to the casino anyway. Elmer’s probably zonked at the door, who knows who might sneaking into the back room.”

Thumbing through the money, G. Hazel nodded distracted. Then called out quickly, “Tell Elmer to come over. He can have that Adopt-A-Senior kid drive him. Make sure the kid has some money too. I love stripping beer money from those college punks. They think we’re easy volunteer hours.” Shaking her head sadly, her eyes twinkling though, she commented, “I love it. Can’t outsmart G. Hazel and her friends. No, no, no.”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Leroy called, leaving the house.

“Grandma.” Cassidy tried again, snapping her fingers in front of her face.

“Yeah.” G. Hazel snapped, then added, “It’s a party, Cassidy. Pull up a couch, have a tequila shot, and party hardy. We only got the house for a little bit before the law-abiders show up again. Figured we could stage a little mutiny till they get back.”

Meeting Cliff’s eyes, Cassidy felt surrender coming into her body. The tigers were zonked. The moles were currently in mole heaven. The lovebird was cooing alone. And her grandma was the life of her party.

She’d gone through a lot of changes within a week. But seeing her Grandma waving her arms excitedly around her head, almost teetering with the threat of breaking her hip, Cassidy realized some things would never change. No matter how many Becky Langers or Leslie Hardings there would be.

Her Grandma would always be her grandma. Cliff and Clarise would always be a part of the Triple C’s. Brad would probably always be underfoot. Before as a boyfriend, now as a friend. And there would be a boy who caused inner moles to launch into full-out clog dancing.

Cassidy grabbed Leroy’s abandoned hand of cards. She was in for the game.