Fashionably Dead Down Under(47)

“I am sick and tired of nobody visiting. It’s fucking boring in Nirvana and I need chocolate,” she yelled.
I glanced at a terrified Ethan and Grandpa. Gigi had progressed to a kicking and screaming fit on the grassy floor and her monkeys had gone ballistic. She was C-R-A-Z-Y and we needed her help. Awesome.
Dashing to what used to be the kitchen I scrounged around, and praise Cousin Jesus, I found chocolate. Gigi was nuts and dangerous, but she didn’t seem evil like my mom. Honestly, she needed a good kick in the pants and most definitely some chocolate.
Her fit had escalated to a degree that was nothing short of terrifying and the monkeys were shrieking and fighting. The birds were no longer graceful—they were dive bombing Grandpa and Ethan, both of whom were hiding under bushes. Enough was enough. This shit was ending now. I was certain her tantrum was going to bring every Demon in Hell to my doorstep and I needed to have time stopped before that happened.
Panic settled in my throat. A True Immortal and a Master Vampyre were hiding from her. Was I an idiot to think I could stop her? Yes. Yes, I was. The ramifications of her fit were a big unknown and that scared me. Could she cause some horrific destruction on earth because she was rolling around on the floor stringing more swear words together than even I knew? She didn’t seem to be the kind of gal who destroyed the world on purpose—she simply appeared to be completely out of control. I wondered for a second if she’d ever tried hormone therapy . . . would that even work on an immortal?
“Gigi,” I shouted in a harsh voice I pulled out of my butt. “Stop it. NOW. Is it any wonder nobody visits you? You’re a fucking disaster.” I heard my grandpa whimper and Ethan groaned. That took some nerve. They were hiding . . . the cowards.
Mother Nature sat up with a look of shock on her face that was priceless and damned scary. Was she going to zap me dead or listen to reason? It was anyone’s guess . . .
“Did you just call me a fucking disaster?” she asked in a very low tone. My gut clenched and I felt a little lightheaded.
“Yes. Yes, I did. You are acting like a two year old and I’m worried that you’re going to blow up half of the continental USA if you don’t get a handle on your tantrum.”
“No one has ever called me a fucking disaster,” she shouted.
“Well, then no one that you hang with has balls,” I shouted back.
There was a long silence where I calculated the odds of how much longer I had to live. I slowly handed her the chocolate, hoping she didn’t bite my hand off.
“Do you really think this is why no one visits?” She sounded like a lost little girl for a moment, but she was no child. She was a dangerous, slightly deranged woman with a ton of magic. She broke off a small piece of the chocolate and popped it in her mouth.
“Yes, I do. Would you want to visit you?” I squatted down next to her and helped her to a sitting position. I was sure I heard Bill squeak in fear.
“I suppose not,” she pouted. “It is a tiny bit unnerving.”
“Exactly,” I told her as I adjusted her dress and tucked her hair behind her ears. “You need to ease up on the fits and maybe try some yoga or meds or something . . . ”
“Do you think that would help?”
Damn, she was pretty.
“I would think so. Do you have any friends? Or hobbies?”
She thought hard and then shook her head sadly. Her red curls bounced and her perfect mouth pursed. “No. No friends or hobbies although I’ve always wanted to take up knitting and pole dancing.”
“Well,” I stuttered, biting down hard on my lip so I wouldn’t laugh. “You should try that. You might even make some friends if you take a pole dancing class.”
“I think I will.” She laughed and her monkeys clapped wildly. She tossed them the rest of the chocolate and they munched happily. The birds again created a halo around her head. “I like you, Astrid. You will be my new friend. Of course you are my granddaughter, but more importantly, you will visit me in Nirvana or I’ll come to Kentucky. We will shop and go to movies and I will babysit your child once it’s born and we will go to spas and wrestling matches. What do you think?”
She waited anxiously for my reply. Most of it sounded good except for her babysitting and the wrestling matches . . . “Yep, I’m in.” I heard Ethan gasp and I grinned. “But I have a problem.”
“Oh dear, are you premenstrual and want to kill people or drown a city?” she asked with great sincerity.
“Um, no. I was wondering if you would stop time on Earth while I . . . ”
“Done,” she said.