Ryan

“Nana, are you sure you’re okay? Take a deep breath and just relax.” Red’s eyebrows pinch together as she leans over her grandmother with concern.

Her nana does what Red suggested, slowly exhaling a lungful of air like a yoga instructor finding her Zen. Then, she squares her shoulders, lifts her arms up parallel to the floor and snaps her eyelids open. She’s laser focused. Then, without even flinching, she empties all six of the rounds in her Ruger LCP into the pink target of a faceless man downrange. He might be faceless on paper, but I know exactly what he looks like in her mind.

“Boom!” Nana, or Madge, as she’s insisted I call her, holds up her hands like a magician who just dropped a smoke bomb and is about to walk off in the puffy haze.

It’s impossible not to laugh at her spunk. When Red first told me about her grandmother, even though she warned me she was still young, I couldn’t help but picture an aging woman. Someone who likes baking cookies and playing games of bridge as long as they wrapped up before her dinner at four o’clock on the nose.

I couldn’t have been more wrong. In the three months she’s been letting Red and me stay at her house, I’ve learned that this woman has more life in her and more attitude than women half her age.

“That was freaking awesome.” Red smiles proudly. She watches as the target slides toward us, showing just how far Madge has come since we started coming here. The first time we showed up at the indoor shooting range, she wasn’t shy about handling a gun, but it wasn’t going to do a lick of good in her hand when she couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn. Now she’s grouped the shots so tight, part of the paper target is just a gaping hole where Wolfe’s heart would be.

If he had a heart to begin with.

“Well, it’s not hard to learn when you’ve got this guy teaching ya.” She claps my shoulder enthusiastically. “Not everyone gets to learn from a former Navy SEAL.” Her pale green eyes twinkle.

Eye color isn’t the only trail Red and her grandmother share. Their wild hair and small statures also seem to be genetic. And, not that I ever look at Madge this way, but it’s nice to see that when Red hits her sixties she’ll still be a smokin’ hot fox.

“It’s the least I could do,” I answer honestly. “Especially after all the meals you’ve made us.” I pat the five pounds I’m sure I’ve put on in my belly. I remember Red told me her grandmother never cooked anything that didn’t come frozen. Well, times have changed. Since she retired, she started taking cooking classes down at the local grocery store. It’s part of a “healthy living” program they put on, which also just happens to feature recipes that help them off-load more of their food to seniors. It’s kind of a win-win. The participants start eating more nutritious foods and they sell more product.

Now Madge is whipping up lasagnas from scratch and pork roast with all the trimmings that make my mouth water at the thought. They might not always be the healthiest meals, but I’ll be damned if they aren’t tasty.

“I think our time is up.” I look at the huge clock on the back wall. The ladies nod and we head out, returning our ear defenders and signing the paperwork off before we head outside into the rain.

Oh, Portland in the winter. With its seemingly endless downpour and gray-streaked sky. People like to say “you can’t shovel the rain,” like the bleary, oppressive clouds opening over their heads is a blessing. I always want to tell them in the south you can’t shovel the sunshine either, but it feels a lot better.

Still, a bit of rain isn’t enough to make me want to run. Not when Red is here. Portland is her home, and it’s starting to feel like mine too. I’ll just have to invest in a good quality raincoat. No biggie.

We all shake ourselves off like dogs and get into Madge’s car. She makes me drive most days. She’s a bit old-fashioned that way. I don’t mind a bit. It’s nice to whip around on my bike, but not when the roads are so sloppy and five minutes on my Harley means being soaked to the bone.

“Hey, are you guys hungry?” I look over at Madge in the passenger seat and then give Red a wink in the backseat.

“I am,” Red answers.

“Oh, let’s get you home then. I’ve got those leftovers in the fridge you can warm up,” her nana offers.

“Nah, how about we treat you? Let’s go out for lunch instead.” I give her a smile and can see her hesitation melt away. I know she’s on a fixed income now that she’s retired and she doesn’t splurge on nice meals often. “Our treat.”

“Well, why didn’t you say so? If it’s your treat, let’s go to Red Lobster.” She laughs.

“I’ll do you one better.” I smirk and navigate our way through Portland’s busy streets to The Seafood Company.

“Oh no, I was just kidding about the lobster,” Madge begins to protest as we pull into the parking lot. “This place is too pricey.” She waves her hands.

“Nope, not another word,” I shush her. “We wanted to take you somewhere nice.”

Madge shrugs off her hesitation and follows us inside where a concierge greets us at the front door.

“Reservation for Rogers, please,” I announce and we’re seated right away.

It takes more convincing than it should, but we finally get Madge to order a lobster dish. Although, she still wouldn’t go for the full deal, opting for a risotto with huge chunks of lobster instead. Really, it’s probably better that way. Now she doesn’t have to wear a big bib or fight to try to free the meat from the shell. Instead, she can concentrate on the conversation. Which is important, because we brought her here to tell her something.

Red and her grandmother talk about Wolfe, a topic we often end up back to ever since the night he died.

.

“Have either of you heard anything from Detective Verilon?” Madge lowers her voice a bit.

“No,” I answer firmly. “And we won’t for a while, unfortunately. You know how the justice system is. It takes a bit,” I try to reassure her.

“Besides, Nana, you don’t have anything to worry about, right?” Red chimes in helpfully. “They already told us this was an open and shut self-defence. They didn’t sound like they were going to try to pin the death of Wolfe’s stupid sidekick on Ryan.” She gently touches her grandmother’s hand.

“Well, that’s good news. And it’s also good to know if anyone else decides to break into my house I can plead self-defence and get away with it.”

“What do you mean, Nana?”

“Well, if some stupid thug showed up at my door again, Bessie and I would end him. And I’m not interested in dying in jail,” she says it so matter-of-factly I laugh.

Bessie is her affectionate nickname for her gun. Whenever she says it, I can’t help but chuckle. It sounds so quaint. Like Thelma and Louise. Bessie and Madge. Well, then again, we all know how Thelma and Louise ended. Those ladies weren’t fucking around either.

“I’m glad you feel safe again.” Red looks really relieved.

All of our attention turns to the waiter, who approaches us with our heaping plates of delicious looking food. For a moment, the only noises at the table are each of us digging in. Now, I love Madge’s cooking, but I’d be lying if I said this didn’t beat it. The fresh scallops explode with flavor on my tongue. It seems like everyone at the table is experiencing the same thing as we all enjoy our meals.

“So, what’s going on?” Madge looks pointedly at Red, finally breaking the silence.

Red kinda squirms in her chair and looks over at me, then back at her grandmother. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I know you didn’t bring me here for no reason, so spill it. What’s going on with you two?” Now her suspicious stare meets my eyes too.

“No, you’re right. We did want to share something with you,” I start.

“You’re knocked up!” Madge turns to her grandchild and clasps her hands with joy streaked across her face.

“Nana! No, I’m not pregnant.” Red shakes her head. “Let us take it one step at a time, will ya?” she teases. “Ryan and I found an apartment about ten minutes from your place. We decided to move in together in a place of our own.”

“Oh, is that all?” The disappointment at the lack of pregnancy is evident on Madge’s face. However, she sees that her comment stings Red and she immediately backpedals. “I mean, that’s lovely, dear. I can’t wait to see your new place. I was wondering when you two would move on.”

“Are you okay with us going?” Red asks nervously. In our late night talks, the one thing that’s come up time and again is her concern that Madge won’t be comfortable without us in the house. Ever since Wolfe stormed in and showed her how vulnerable she can be, it’s been a huge focus of our time and energy to make her feel safe again.

“Okay with it? Of course I am! Now I can have my boyfriend spend nights at my place again. It’s been a pain to always go to his place,” she answers so casually.

I laugh at how Red’s jaw just dropped open like a cartoon character.

“What, you think you’re the only one who gets to have a sexy boyfriend? Mine might not be a SEAL, and his hip ain’t great, but he’s still sexy to me.”

“Well then, I guess that’s settled.” I try to hold my laughter in. Shock is still dancing on Red’s face, freezing her features as she processes all this.

“I guess it is,” she finally answers.

“Sounds that way to me.” Madge grins. “So, when will you two be out?”