“Here you go,” I said, handing over the present.
“Cool!”
Everyone gathered around as Martin sat down and started tearing at the paper. My son and daughter-in-law smiled at me from the other side of a sea of adolescent heads, all bent over to see what he got.
“Awesome! A FriendZip Bracelet Fun Pak!”
“Oh, hey!” The boy who had told me of Martin’s accident shouted. “Now I can give you a skateboard token.”
It was only then that I noticed he wore a FriendZip Bracelet on his slim wrist.
“We’ll trade a football one,” another boy said, pulling his own FriendZip Bracelet off his wrist and unzipping it.
Soon a bunch of his friends were trading tokens like Wall Street stockbrokers trading blue chip shares.
I basked in the glow of coolness. I had bridged two generations and picked the right gift.
“Hey, what’s this gunk?” Martin said. He had noticed one end of the box was crumpled. Some dried material was stuck on the corner, a deep red.
I nearly keeled over right there. Florence Nightingale had given me the very same box that got crushed by Sir Edmund. There was blood on my grandson’s birthday present.
“Looks like raspberry jam,” one of his friends said.
“Don’t touch that,” I said quickly. “It’s, um, makeup. I spilled some or… something. Better wash your hands before you eat.”
“Doesn’t look like makeup,” one of the girls said.
“It is. Um, for old ladies. You’ll know all about it one day, honey.”
“Uh, okay,” Martin said with a shrug. To my relief, he didn’t touch the bloodstain. Once he emptied the box and was distracted trading tokens with his friends, I surreptitiously grabbed the box and threw it in the nearest trash can. Only Gary noticed. He gave me a wink. I hadn’t told him about the present being crushed, but he knew a bloodstain when he saw one.
After the token trading was over, Martin opened his other presents. He got a new soccer ball, a couple of jerseys he had asked for, some new parts for his skateboard (why the metal bits that hold the wheels are called “trucks” remains a mystery to me), and the hottest new video game. It was called Jungle Combat (“The Most Realistic Fighting Game Ever!”). Gary and I suppressed a snicker.
Once the feeding frenzy was over and Martin was sitting content in a heap of destroyed wrapping paper, he held up his FriendZip Bracelet and rattled it.
“Thanks, Grandma. This is the best.”
Gary stepped forward. “Well, young man. While I don’t know you, I don’t think it would be fair for me to eat some of your cake without giving you something. You might have noticed that I limp. I used to be in the… army. When I was younger, I fought the Taliban. That was right at the beginning of the war, before you were even born.” His face got a faraway look for a moment. “Yes, it’s been going on a long time. I got wounded in the leg there. An RPG hit the Hummer I was in and ripped open the side. Ripped open my leg too.”
The kids had gone completely silent. Everyone was giving him their rapt attention. Gary went on.
“That was the end of the war for me. Now I work a desk job for the government. To remember those times, I wear this.” He pulled a leather thong that was hidden beneath his shirt and brought out a jagged bit of metal encased in clear plastic resin. “This is part of the shrapnel they took out of me. I wear it for luck. Now I’m not going to give you this, it’s a bit too personal. I’m sure you understand. But I do want to give you this.”
He reached into his pocket and brought out a spent cartridge.
“This is a spent bullet cartridge from a Taliban AK-47. I gathered this after one of the firefights I was in.”
Martin gaped. He gingerly reached out and took it.
“Whoa. Thanks, mister.”
His friends gathered around.
“Awesome!”
“Incredible!”
“That’s totally epic!”
Martin smiled at Gary. “Thanks, man. This is the best present I ever got. I’ll keep this forever.”
I put my hands on my hips. I go through gunfights and murders to get him the coolest teen collectible on the market and get upstaged by an old friend who has never even met my grandson before?
Humph!
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About the Author
Harper Lin is a USA TODAY bestselling cozy mystery author. When she's not reading or writing mysteries, she loves going to yoga classes, hiking, and hanging out with her family and friends.
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A Note From Harper
Thank you so much for reading Granny Goes Rogue. If you were entertained by the book, please recommend it to friends and family who would enjoy it too. I would also really appreciate it if you could write a book review to help spread the word.
If you like this series, you might also enjoy my other series:
• The Cape Bay Cafe Mysteries (ongoing series): When Fran moves back to her idyllic beach town to take over the family café, she also develops a knack for solving bizarre murders. Each book includes dessert recipes.
• The Wonder Cats Mysteries (ongoing series): three witches and their magical cats solve paranormal murder cases in the mystical town of Wonder Falls.
• The Pink Cupcake Mysteries (ongoing series): A new divorcée sells delicious cupcakes from a pink food truck, to the chagrin of her
