She shrugs. “I don’t care. Put it in the jar.” Gram is like a dwarf—maybe five feet tall, gray hair, little rimmed glasses, and usually dressed up wearing tons of jewelry. Her personality is a scream, and she keeps all of us guys in line, usually having us in hysterics. We all love her and would kill for her.
The swear jar is completely stuffed with bills and just a few quarters. “Gram, what are you going to do with all that money you’ve extracted from all of us?” I ask her. I’ve lost about a hundred bucks in that jar myself.
She puts the baking pan into the oven and sets the timer. “Never mind that. You boys swear way too much in front of Katie. Do you want her to start swearing and sounding like a truck driver?”
“Yes,” Vandal replies, grinning at Gram. He loves to get her riled up.
“Don’t make me smack you again,” she retorts.
I watch Katie color a picture of a rainbow and a unicorn for a few moments, and she suddenly smiles up at me, her two front teeth missing. I ruffle her hair and lean down to kiss the top of her head. “This one is for you, Uncle Lukas,” she tells me in her sweet voice. “When I’m done, you can take it home and put it on your wall, or maybe tattoo it on someone.”
“I would love to do that, Princess Katie.”
Vandal crosses the room and sits in the chair at the table next to Katie. “Hey, I heard you dumped Rio,” he says, grabbing some crayons.
Frowning at him, I lean against the wall and shake my head. “Yeah, I did. Is there anyone you haven’t screwed?”
He tilts his head like he’s thinking about it. “Not many, bro. You may have to move to the west coast.”
“Very funny.”
He chooses a purple crayon and starts to color one of Katie’s pictures. “So why’d you dump her? She’s fun.”
I grind my teeth to keep from swearing. I don’t want to lose twenty bucks. “I don’t want your leftovers. That’s why.”
“You’re not gonna find a virgin, pal. Suck it up.”
“I’m not saying a virgin. Just someone you haven’t been with.”
“Why? I can give you honest reviews. Like a critique service.”
“I’m going to fucking punch you in the face in about two seconds,” I tell him, even though I’m laughing. He’s such an asshole sometimes.
Gram pipes up from across the room. “Lukas . . . you know the rules.”
Oh, fuck me. I pull out my wallet. “You’re killing us, Gram,” I tease, shoving a five dollar bill into the jar.
“Someday, you will both thank me.”