Feliz Naughty Dog - Roxanne St. Claire Page 0,4
guys run the registration table, you can check off the teams as they arrive. Oh, and give everyone a list of suggested acts, because they’re all too lame or in love to figure them out for themselves. Then we can head on over to Vestal Village Mall for some Santa stalking.”
“And that’s why they call her General Pru,” Yiayia said, lifting her knuckles for a three-way fist bump.
And just like that, Pru forgot her disappointment. Who needed a boyfriend when she had the world’s most fun grannies and a clandestine adventure on Christmas Eve?
Chapter Two
“You got yourself a fine great-granddaughter,” Agnes said as she laid out the list of RACK teams Pru had given them, settling in at the registration table and pulling her jacket a little tighter against the cold.
“She’s a good lass.” Finnie straightened a pile of papers that said Suggested Random Acts of Christmas Kindness…RACK UP POINTS! at the top. “I’m glad she’s coming with us today.”
“You’d think she’d want to spend the day with kids her own age,” Yiayia mused, nodding to acknowledge a family as they walked through the festive archways topping the square’s entrance, two children with them running to greet the elves around Santa’s sleigh. “But she always puts family first.”
“That’s how she was raised.” Finnie took off her glasses and found a hankie in her coat pocket, taking a swipe over each lens. “The whole Kilcannon clan is a family-first group, and I believe that’s something to be admired.”
“True enough, but a girl that young and pretty should have some fun, not babysit a couple of crazy old grandmothers. Not that I’m old.” Agnes slipped her phone from her bag and tapped the screen, then scrolled, squinting at the blurry words.
“But you are crazy. Here.” Finnie held out her glasses. “Since you are old and too vain to wear your own.”
“I only need them for reading.”
“Then just look through the bottom part, and it’ll help you find…who you’re looking for.”
Agnes took the glasses with a smile. “How do you know I’m looking for him?”
“Because it’s all you’ve done for a week since that thing first dinged with a match.”
“So shoot me for getting a little happy, Finnie. Oh, look, he changed his Single ‘n’ Silver picture to one of him in his Santa costume.” She angled the phone. “Does he look like John Gotti to you?”
“All he needs are some prison stripes.” Finnie’s eyes danced with mirth just as two high school girls stopped by the table and asked for the RACK suggestions.
“I’ll just need to check off your names, lassies.” Finnie reached for the list of participants with one hand and held her other out to Agnes. “Glasses, please.”
“Claire Cunningham and Mira Saylor,” one of the girls said.
With a reluctant sigh, Agnes handed the glasses to Finnie. There’d be plenty of time later to study Aldo Fiore. As Finnie looked down the list of names, Agnes offered one of the suggestion sheets to the girls.
But they were riveted on something—or someone—across the square.
“Look at him,” one of them said. “Lucas Darling. And he sure is.”
“He looks like he might just take a bite of you, if you get my drift,” the other mused.
Agnes studied their expressions, which looked a lot like Pyggie and Gala when the treat bag crunched, then she followed their gazes and saw long hair and a leather jacket.
“Greyhounds don’t usually bite,” she said with a tease in her voice.
They both turned and stared at her with that sullen, disconnected, humorless look teenagers sometimes had. Not Pru, of course, but so many of her peers. No wonder Pru would rather spend the day with old ladies. At least they had a sense of humor.
“I found you, lassies,” Finnie announced. “Claire and Mira. Now take a sheet of suggestions and go RACK UP POINTS!”
One of them almost smiled. Almost. And the other fake-smiled. “You must be Pru’s grandmother,” she said.
“Great-grandmother,” she corrected. “How did you know?”
They just exchanged a quick, silent look and then both looked off to their left, where Pru was standing on a park bench shouting out instructions to a group of kids like a cheerleader trying to drum up enthusiasm with the losing crowd. “Just a guess.”
She started to walk away, but the other grabbed her arm, pointing at the list of teams. “I can read upside down,” she hissed. “And he’s not on there, Mira.”
“No surprise.”
“But he has to get at least an hour of volunteer points, or he won’t pass the semester.” She