WANDERLOST: The Marvelous Misadventures of Ms Ava White by Traci Highland

Author:Traci Highland [Highland, Traci]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Cheshire Lane Press
Published: 2019-09-16T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

Spain, bitches!

Billy

Who is this dude calling my sister telling her that grandpa is a terrorist? Seriously, this guy is pissing me off. And the fact that I’m like two hours away makes it even worse. Not like I can just roll on up to A&M and sleep on the floor of her dorm when she needs me.

Not to mention that she probably thinks that I’m the suckiest brother in the world for not caring more about her finding our long-lost grandmother. But I’m sorry. Who gives a damn who our grandmother is? She’s just some old lady that ditched mom and grandpa when they needed her. Screw her.

But Emma’s like all happy about it or whatever and I guess it’s good. I swear though if that Sunshine lady even thinks about breaking Emma’s heart I’m gonna kick her ass.

Not like actually kick her ass, because she’s an old lady and all. But still. I’m gonna be pissed. And knowing that Emma just up and flew to Spain to find mom with this old bag makes me like her even less. If mom had wanted to find her, she would’ve. Mom’s stubborn like that. She used to read me that Runaway Bunny book until I was like seven, and every night after reading it she’d tell me that the moral of the story is that “No matter what, there is no escape. Mommy will hunt you down and find you. Forever and ever.”

Considering that Mom’s off traveling thousands of miles to hunt down Grandpa, I know that mom takes that sort of thing real seriously.

Harriet is working the desk at Tall Pines today and give her my trademark panty-dropping smile. Her cheeks go pink and I lean across the desk, picking up the pencil at the sign in sheet. “So, is Mr. Thompson in today? Or is he out painting the town?”

She loves it when I talk about old people painting the town. Ever since Grandpa fell and broke his ankle last year and I’d come pick him up to go out on the town every Saturday. Harriet has it in her head that I’m a sweet boy.

We’re just going to roll with it until I find this Mr. Thompson and have a little talk with him about calling my baby sister.

“Oh, he’s upstairs, giving all the folks playing BINGO his lecture about burning in hell for gambling. You can go on up and see the crowd, if you want. They miss your grandfather, too.” She sighs. “He brought us all so much joy, bless his heart.”

Her words hit me in the throat. I thank her and grab one of the visitor passes from the bucket and clip it to my Wheelwrights shirt.

The BINGO hall is really just a big living room with lots of tall windows and some long tables. I see Agnes and Betty and Lucinda, a.k.a., Grandpa’s crew. Old Mrs. Apfel is over in the corner of the room, her walker off to her side, she’s not even looking at her BINGO card.

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