“The thing is, Dooley, your human has been very naughty again.”
Dooley uttered a groan. “What did she do this time?”
“Apparently when Tex and Marge gifted her an iPhone and a remarkably affordable cell phone plan so she could call her friends, she quickly discovered a fun game in the App Store.”
“What kind of game?”
“Well, it’s called ‘Game of Phones.’ The trick is to select as many world leaders as you can, and then call them for as long as possible. The person with the most world leaders on the leaderboard and the most phone time racked up wins a cruise to the Bahamas.”
“So that’s why she was calling Angela Merkel in the middle of the night!”
“I think she’s hardly slept all week. She’s been chatting non-stop with these non-existent world leaders all this time.”
“Non-existent? You mean…”
I leveled a grim look at him. “Do you really think the German Chancellor would give a little old lady from Hampton Cove, USA, the time of day? Or listen to her rambling advice?”
“But Angela Merkel talked back to her. And so did this Ban Ki-moon and the others.”
“Artificial intelligence automated response system,” I said, repeating what Odelia had told me before dinner. “Grandma was talking to a bot, Dooley. Just a stupid computer bot.”
“So what’s so naughty about that? It must be fun to pretend-talk to the President.”
“The thing is, Game of Phones is a scam. You pay an exorbitant amount of money for every minute you chat with their bots, and since Gran gave them Tex’s credit card details…”
Dooley slapped a paw to his brow. “Oh, dear. Not again.”
“Yes, again. So when Tex got his credit card bill this morning…”
“He wasn’t happy.”
“He was very unhappy. And then he confiscated Vesta’s iPhone.”
“And now she’s unhappy.”
“Come on, Mom,” said Uncle Alec to his mother now. “You have to eat something. You’ll starve to death!”
“So be it,” croaked Grandma, her arms crossed defiantly over her chest. “This family hates me, so I hate them back.” She wagged a bony finger. “If I die, it’s on all of you!”
“You’ll get your phone back once I figure out how to have it kid-proofed,” said Tex.
She darted a look at him that no mother should ever direct at her son-in-law. “For your information, I’m not a child, Tex!”
“As long as you act like one, you’ll be treated as one,” Tex said cheerfully. “Sausage, anyone?” He presented a plate with six blackened sausages. Uncle Alec, Odelia and Chase took one look at the incinerated carcasses and demurred, preferring Marge’s roast instead.
“I want my phone,” said Grandma mutinously. “You can’t do this to me. This is a human rights violation and I’m gonna call Ban Ki-moon the minute I get my phone back.”
“That wasn’t the real Ban Ki-moon, Mom,” said Marge gently. “That was just a computer bot in the Philippines pretending to be Ban Ki-moon so it could scam you.”
“I don’t care. He told me I could be the next Secretary-General of the United Nations. Said I had the gumption and the wherewithal to save the planet and restore world peace to a troubled humanity! Do you really think a fake Ban Ki-moon would say those things to me?”
“Look, Ban Ki-moon isn’t even the Secretary-General anymore,” Odelia pointed out, holding up her phone and displaying a Wikipedia page. “It’s a guy called António Guterres.”
“Don’t you believe that stuff,” said Gran stubbornly. “Everybody knows Wikipedia is fake news. I talked to Ban Ki-moon, and Angela Merkel, and Putin, and the President, and they all had nice things to say about me. Said I might get the Nobel Peace Prize for the work I do. And now that I finally get some recognition from some very important people, my own family turns against me!” She got up. “You know what? I don’t need this crap. I’m leaving!”
They watched, jaws dropped, as she stalked off.
“Ma! Where are you going?” asked Uncle Alec.
“To Washington! Where I’m appreciated! I’m gonna talk to the President in person. Last time we spoke he said he’d make me Secretary of State. I’m gonna remind him.”
“Ma! Come back here!” Alec said, throwing down his napkin and chasing after her.
“Never! I’m destined for greatness! You can’t hold me back!”
She disappeared around the corner of the house, still going strong, with Uncle Alec in hot pursuit. Their voices died away, and Dooley muttered, “Who’s going to feed me now?”
“She’ll be back,” I told him. “She might be nuts, but she’s not that nuts.”
“How long before she’ll come crawling back?” asked Odelia.
“I give her two hours,” said Tex.
“One hour,” said Marge. “She hasn’t eaten, remember?”
“You’ve got one crazy family, Poole,” said Chase with a grin. “And I like it!” he hastened to add when she quirked an eyebrow in his direction.
Yep. That’s us. One crazy family. And as I watched Brutus and Harriet canoodling nearby, and Uncle Alec chase his mother around and around the house, and Chase press a kiss on Odelia’s lips—and Tex doing the same with Marge—I thought about Dooley’s words. When was I finally going to find love? I thought about Clarice, roaming her beloved woods again, and Charlie’s Dieber Babes, one collection of fine but ultimately vapid cats, and then glanced at my buddy Dooley—my best friend and wingman—and sighed happily.
I had friends and family, I had food and my health. Why spoil it with romance?
A chicken wing rolled into my bowl, accompanied by a peck on the top of my head from Odelia, and I watched as she and Chase disappeared through the hedge, holding hands.
“What are they up to, you think?” asked Dooley.
“Nookie,” I told him.
“What’s a nookie, Max?” he asked.
“Um…”
“Is it like a cookie?”
“Yes. Yes, it is.”
He smiled. “I love cookies.”
In short order, Tex and Marge disappeared into the house, Brutus and Harriet disappeared into the bushes, and the backyard was suddenly empty.
“Are they all going for cookies?” asked Dooley.
“Yup. Everybody loves a cookie.”
We sat in silence for a moment, watching as Uncle Alec and Grandma Muffin came around the corner of the house once more. Grandma appeared out of breath, for she plunked down in her chair, glanced around and, noticing the rest of the family had split, sliced off a piece of roast, dug her spoon into the bowl of potatoes, and started tucking in.
Uncle Alec, also dropping into a chair, watched her with a contented smile.
Silence reigned, only interrupted by Grandma’s smacking noises.
“You know what, Max?” asked Dooley finally.
“What?”
“Chase is probably right. The Pooles are a little crazy, aren’t they?”
“That, they definitely are.”
“But I still love them.”
“So do I, Dooley. So do I.”
And then we followed Grandma’s example and tucked in, too.
Life with the Pooles might not be perfect, but it was never boring.
THE END
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Excerpt from Witchy Wishes (Neighborhood Witch Committee 3)
Prologue
Skip Brown was whipping through the Haymill neighborhood in South Brooklyn on his messenger bike, delivering fine bread and pastry to some of the less mobile regulars of the family bakery where he earned his keep. Brown’s Better Bread Bakery had been in business for as long as Browns had lived in Brooklyn, which, as far as Skip knew, was pretty much forever.