I woke up, smelling coffee. Really strong coffee. I opened my eyes, jolting awake.
“Grandma,” I cried as she pulled the mug away. “What are you doing?”
My grandmother was dressed for the day and wore her tiny nose stud. “If you’re going to be a grump, Garnet, I could come back and bang on a frying pan like how I used to wake your father.”
She smiled as if it was one of her happiest memories. Then she placed the coffee on the side table while handing me her cell phone. Dad’s famous picture as a grown man stuck in a tree flashed on the screen. It was a good smile on him, one of the few times he laughed at himself. Only a mother would choose this picture for her son’s icon rather than a standard nice one. And use a frying pan to get him out of bed.
“Onyx wants to talk to you,” Grandma sai
