CHAPTER 9

 

“New York’s got a lot of crazies in it,” Grandpa said. “Doesn’t sound like it’s changed much since I lived there.”

“When did you live there, Grandpa?” Nancy asked.

“The 50’s. All hustle and bustle. Nobody stayed still. Everyone trying to make it in the ‘big time.’ I guess it’s still the same.”

Jack said, “l don’t know, Grandpa. I’ve got some friends from New York. They tell me some weird shit that happens there.” He gulped. “I mean, weird stuff. Hey, Mom, this is, like, the best eggnog ever!”

“Smooth, Jack,” Nick said.

“Were you all not here listening to that last story?” Judy looked around at them. “One little ‘s-word’ is not going to curl my hair or make me cast disapproving glances at you.” Judy smiled and took a gulp of her nog. “But you are right, though, Jack. This is one of the best batches of this shit I’ve ever made!

“Judy!”

Judy sipped her eggnog, calm and collected. “Oh come on. Those words have been around for centuries—even longer than Grandpa. Speaking of which, Grandpa, why don’t you read the next story? We can have a later dinner,” Judy said.

Everyone was still staring at her.

“Read, Grandpa.”

“Yes, ma’am. It’s called, I’ll be Dead For Christmas.”

Dan stared at his wife over the rim of his mug. “Sounds interesting.”