in here for all of that, she just came in here to—”
“I know what she came in here fer,” Grand said in a peevish tone, folding her arms over her bony chest.
“Maybe I should go,” Jessica mumbled and then turned to leave. “It was nice to meet y’all.”
“See, that’s the problem with young folks.” Grand let out a little grunt. “You’s too fast to jump to conclusions. I said I know why you came in here, sugah. Open up that bag of yours and let’s talk plain.”
Jessica turned around to look at the old lady.
“I know you got some serious hardware in there. Gonna take a coupla days to get bullets made for it. But’chu gonna need more than that to go after what’s down in Johnson’s Bayou.”
Jessica remained very, very still. She and Justin stared at Justin’s grandmother, slack-jawed.
“After what happened to my Lula, I didn’t wanna see no mo’, but that don’t mean I cain’t see.” Grand lifted her chin and narrowed her gaze on Jessica. “But you too young to be throwing your gift away by trying to go git yo’self kilt.”
Moving to the store counter, Jessica set her crocheted bag down on it and slowly extracted her father’s old service revolver. Justin looked at the gun; Grand just shook her head.
“So, you’s fixin’ to go into the bayou . . . all by your lonesome and handle up a whole pack of lukegaroos? Girl, you plum lost your natural mind.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Justin rounded the counter and stared at the gun for a few seconds, then looked at Jessica. “Tell me that isn’t the plan, because if it is, I’m not making you silver anything, let alone bullets.”
“Okay, fine,” Jessica said, growing annoyed. What business was it of theirs what she’d planned to do? But the old lady had said pack, as in more than a few like she’d imagined—that was her idea of a pack, but the old lady made it sound as though there were way more than that . . . She’d also acknowledged that there were werewolves out there.
Grand scoffed, picking up on Jessica’s thoughts. “You ain’t crazy, chile—not for knowing what ate up them people on the news. What makes you crazy as a bedbug is trying to go after what kilt my Lula all by yourself.”
“Grand, we are not going into that,” Justin said, frowning.
“Boy, I used to change your diapers, so don’t you sass me!” Grand fussed as she pointed a gnarled finger at Jessica. “Baby girl, lemme tell you . . . There’s a lot of mess up in that bayou that ya need to leave be. My daughter was carrying him,” she added with a quick jerk of her head toward Justin. “I tol’ her not to do no readings while she was carrying that boy . . . but money was funny and my daughter didn’t listen. She took a client—a man. His wife was a hussy, was cheatin’ on him, and my daughter didn’t have the sense she was born with not to tell him so.”
Justin let out a groan and walked away. “Grand, would you please stop.”
“No, ’cause this chile fixin’ to do somethin’ that don’t make sense, so I’m gonna tell her how mess goes ’round and comes ’round.”
Grand squared her shoulders and walked up to Jessica. But Justin seemed so uncomfortable that Jessica glanced at him, torn. Part of her wanted to know what had happened, and the other part wanted to stop the story that seemed to be causing Justin so much pain.
“Don’t look at him,” Grand said. “He’s closed-mouthed about everything, always been that way. So you need to give me your undivided.”
Grand nodded as Jessica’s attention was wrested back to her. “Now, like I was sayin’ . . . My daughter told and that husband went home as mad as a caught thief. Lef’ his no-good wife. After gettin’ caught in two-timing ways, the wife blamed my daughter. Have you ever?” Grand sucked her teeth and let another grunt of disgust pass her lips. “But you know hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.” Grand’s gaze softened, and then she looked at her grandson. “Sooner or later you gonna haf’ta tell somebody . . . maybe somebody who got a good heart and who can accept you for who you is.”
“If you violate my privacy, Grand, I swear, I’m out.” Justin stared at his grandmother, his eyes holding a promise to never forgive the offense.
“This girl here got