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©® KAYCEE** Pseudonym 2012

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"Grandma, there's a wolf here for dinner..."

"How's dinner coming Jesse?"

The voice rang out from the back bedroom where my Gran was laid up in bed. I'd fell to me to come down and stay with her here at her home south of Monterrey since she'd taken a spill last week while surfing and suffered a sprained ankle. Yes, I said 'surfing'. My Grandmother, all 65 years of her (at least that's what she told people when they asked her age), surfed. She had been for years. She taught my Mom and she'd taught me as well. My Mom couldn't get down here from LA since her practice was extremely busy. It was spring and every LA 'bitch' was trying to get into her office for plastic surgery or Botox before the summer came around and they had to be in a bikini.

It was nice being out here on Big Sur. The mountains and forest were behind us and the beach below. Gran and Gramps had bought the place years ago at a steal and kept it before the surrounding area it had went to National Forest in 1936. The property had been in just Gran's name for almost twelve years now after Gramps passed and one day the property would pass to Mom and then me. However, knowing our family, that'll be a long time down the road. I looked out the window and watched the sun begin to set on the Pacific, filling the skies with rich shades of warm reds and oranges against the clouds.

"Oh! And did you light the candles and incense sweetie?" she finished up her thought.

"Yes Gran! I lit them an hour ago. I'm in the middle of frying the chicken. Do you need anything after I get this batch started?" I looked around the counter container for the tongs but they weren't there; as usual. Where Mom was a neat freak, Gran was a free spirit. "Gran where are the tongs?" still trying to look around the kitchen for the damn things.

"In the dishwasher I think," she yelled while I could hear her in the living room flipping the station around trying to get the weather before flipping it over to 'the Simpson's.' It took me nearly two hours to get the crap out of the sink and straightened out then rerun the dishwasher because she'd stacked dirty dishes on top of clean ones without a thought. I wasn't looking forward to cleaning her bathroom. The woman needed to hire a live in maid. She damn well could afford it.

I rolled my eyes and sighed heavily before turning towards the ancient machine. It had only finished a few moments ago. I took a deep breath and concentrated for a moment since I was trying to do so much at once. I had a lot on my mind. I looked out the window to see if the coast was clear. It was. Kyle was down the beach talking with the other surfers while he waited on me to finish dinner.

Kyle Evans did yard work for Gran. He had been for as long as I remember. He was the second child of a local family that lived less than a quarter mile from Gran's place. Like my Grandparents, his family had bought into property years before. The property continued to pass down to each of the kids. His parents had passed a couple years back from a plane crash on their way up to British Columbia while he was in his senior year of high school. His brother who'd been in college at the time came back and stayed around till Kyle was of age and graduated.

Kevin hadn't wanted to stay around so he signed the property over to Kyle. It had been paid off years before and only the taxes and miscellaneous bills needed covering. Kyle made enough money doing odd jobs in the area along with working for Gran. Kevin eventually moved back to LA after putting off his studies for a year. From what I heard from Gran, he was now in Eastern Europe near what used to be East Germany doing research.

Kyle took it hard but because Gran and his brother was able to bounce back. I'd essentially grown up with Kyle during those years that Mom and I lived with them up until Mom got her business off the ground and we moved up to Monterrey. Then it was just the holidays, breaks and summers from my freshman to senior year in high school that I'd spent at Gran's place. We pretty much hung out all the time when I was down. According to Gran, he always asked how I was doing. Now, both of us were nineteen and I was in college.

My eyes brightened a bit and my left eyebrow rose up. The dishwasher shuttered a moment. It had been a while since I'd used my powers since Mom usually liked for us to do everything the normal way at home. "You live in the mortal world. You adapt." Oh, and I had to adapt. The first years of my life were me dealing with a 'block' being placed on my powers until I was old enough to understand them and then once I hit five I was given just a small taste and only at home. And no friends over either during those times, otherwise the block, like that of a 'child proof cap', was zapped back on me.

Over the years, my powers were given boosts as my maturity and age progressed. Then at 17, considered an adult by 'our standards', when my Mom couldn't fully block my powers like so much of a security guard, she did the next best thing for nearly the six months before I graduated. She made it where as I walked out the door each morning my powers were siphoned off and into the house until I got back from school. I'd finally got really ticked one morning and stayed home out of spite looking for the counter spell. When I found it, that evening ended up with a blowout between Mom and me before Gran popped in to diffuse the entire thing.

Even now, I had to curb the use while in college because I had a roommate. Trying to explain a floating pair of boxer briefs or a computer typing itself while you were dictating wasn't something I looked forward too at all. However, he'd recently gotten the idea of joining a frat and it made things a little simpler wherein I could actually give myself the opportunity to practice and 'stretch' as it were.

Something told me to look outside. Eyes in the back of your head, Gran called it. I turned briefly back to the window to see Kyle coming back up the side road from the beach up towards the house. "Shit!" mumbling to myself and getting agitated. That affected the old machine start clanking around like it was going to walk away from the wall. "STOP IT!" I yelled out to the silly thing making it cease it clatter. The door flew down, shelf popped out and the tongs that I needed flew over onto the counter. "Thank you, now close up shop." The old codger of a machine groaned, belched a low snort and slammed its door shut in annoyance. "Gran?" I halfway yelled.

"Yes dear?"

"Why in the hell did charm that thing and almost all your appliances?" grabbing the tongs to move the chicken around in the deep fryer. A set of crutches appeared at the doorway to the kitchen seconds before her body did.

"Jesse sweetie? I'm just a little old woman in her 60's that's frail and lives alone. I need all the help I can get."

Turning to face her with nothing more than absolute awe at the last statement, I couldn't hold back. "Sixties and frail my ass! Althea Meriweather! Don't you even throw that line of BS in my direction old woman! If you're going to use 60's then damn well be honest and tell them your real age and that you were born in 1644 instead of 1944."

"Jesse!" she gasped with a hand to her chest and trying to fake a palpitation, "Just where did you learn that type of language!" Seconds later she and I were in hysterics.

"Oh sweetie," she paused in her laughter, "You remind me more and more of your Grandfather every day." At that I could only smile.

I did miss him, my Grandfather. He died while protecting me that summer of my sixth birthday from that good for nothing sperm donor of a Father. Fortunately, he didn't make it either. My parents had divorced about two years after I'd been born. My Mother thought that she'd been smitten with him only to find out later that the bastard had used a charm spell on her and his plans were less than honourable when it came to our family. Once Mom found out all hell broke loose and she filed an "ectoplasmic interlocutory", a divorce in our culture. When it was through, Mom made sure to have my last named changed when she went back to her maiden name.

It was that which sent the man over the edge. He swore he'd get back at the family and take me away. The results were it was just me, Mom and Gran.

"Seriously though Gran," taking a breath, "Why did you charm the entire kitchen?" She just shrugged, "It's always been charmed. You were just too young and too busy playing and hanging out with Kyle to really notice. However," she paused while shuffling the rest of the way into the kitchen and whistling over to the kitchen table chair. The thing flew from under the table and slid over by her so she could sit, "I had more than enough to do in this house, be there for your Mother, help take care of you and then when we lost your Grandfather..." She trailed off.

I moved over to her and pulled her into a strong hug. "I know," I sniffled, "I still miss him as well."

She looked up at me and smiled, "He'd be proud of you. You know that right?"

I shrugged, "You think so? Even with his only grandson being a 'poof'?" She slapped my arm hard, "Jesse Adam Meriweather!" giving me a steely look, "You know damn well your Grandfather didn't have a bigoted bone in his body. Besides, you know your Great Uncle Calvin is gay as well. He and his partner have been together for nearly 550 years. OUR PEOPLE are not small minded!"

This I knew. However, living in the mortal world always made me focus on what was around me. It was some of the lessons that Mom had instilled in me. "Be careful of who your trust!" she always used to say while I was growing up. Hell, she still did. I think it had to do a lot more with that man she married than mortals.

"Now, I want to go finish watching my cartoons. How long before supper?" as she stood up and leaned on her crutches.

"I have a few more pieces of chicken to fry. The potatoes are done and then I'll make the gravy and get the salad ready. Probably a half hour at the most."

She smiled, "You did make enough for Kyle right?" I nodded, "Like I didn't expect him here for dinner?"

"Hush!" she scolded me before snapping her fingers and that old, dark read shawl came flying out of the closet by the back door. It settled on her shoulders allowing the attached red hood to lie against her still strong back.

The dishwasher groaned again only to cease its noise when both of us yelled "HUSH!"

A few seconds later Kyle walked in the back door, "Hush what?" he asked.