Page 56 of It Runs in the Family

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Not particularly.” But I wasn’t in any hurry to go back and face Aunt Millie or Billy, so I figured I’d sit with Granny as long she’d let me stay.

She nodded and resumed flipping her fried chicken pieces, then setting them on the paper towels to drain.

After a few minutes, she said, “Get the platter out of the oven.”

It took me a moment to realize she was actually asking me to help her. I hopped out of my chair and hurried over to the oven. After I grabbed a kitchen towel, I opened the oven and saw there were two platters—a full one and a half full one. I pulled out the half-full one and set it on the counter next to the cookie sheet.

“Grab a new set of tongs and put those pieces on the platter.”

My mouth dropped open, but I quickly closed it as I found a pair of tongs in the drawer and started piling the pieces onto the platter.

“If you don’t close your mouth, flies are gonna fly in.”

“It’s just that you never let anyone help.”

“Maybe I’m gettin’ tired of running the whole show,” she snapped. “Maybe I decided it couldn’t hurt to let someone else help.”

“Consider me your sous chef,” I said.

Her upper lip curled. “This ain’t no fancy French restaurant. Ain’t no chefs here.”

“Okay, but short order cook doesn’t sound right.” I put the platter back in the oven, then replaced the paper towels on the cookie sheet with fresh ones. After we had the third platter piled with chicken and Granny was frying her last batch, she told me to take a platter out to the table.

I stopped in my tracks and stared at her.

“Don’t be lookin’ at me like that,’ she grunted.

“But you carry out the chicken.”

“Not today I ain’t.”

I pulled a foil-covered platter from the oven with a kitchen towel like Granny always did—potholders were for sissies and a waste of money—and carried it out the back door. My aunts were rearranging bowls on the long table, but they stopped in their tracks when they saw me put the foil-covered platter down.

Aunt Millie put a hand on her hip as her mouth puckered. “What is that?”

I figured it was pretty obvious, and I didn’t feel like getting into an argument, so I turned around and hurried toward the kitchen. I cast a glance over my shoulder to check on my aunts and saw Aunt Evelyn lifting the edge of the foil. Aunt Millie released a loud shriek.

Crap. She was going to pounce on me when I brought out another platter. Maybe I could get Granny to come out with me at the same time.

I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going and slammed into someone. I took a step back and glanced up to see Billy, who had obviously been lying in wait for me.

My blood ran cold, but I narrowed my eyes and said, “Granny’s waiting on me, and if I don’t get back in there, it’s gonna be your ass that’s black and blue, not mine.”

“Likely story,” he said, taking a step toward me. “Everyone knows she won’t let anyone in the kitchen while she’s frying chicken.”

“Well, today she changed her mind.”

Hatred filled his eyes. “You think Granny’s gonna save you?”

I didn’t think it was a coincidence he’d cornered me a good twenty feet from the others so they wouldn’t overhear him.

“I’m not having a vision for you, Billy, so leave me alone.”

He took a step closer, a menacing look in his eyes. “You think you can attack me like that and get away with it?”

Where was Garrett when I needed him? Probably still looking for a scratch on his truck.