“When have Inotspoiled you?” Nana asks. “It’s my job. Among other things.”
Willow looks up. “Nana, may I have another glass of orange juice?”
“Yes, you may.”
I focus on my breakfast, trying not to let yesterday’s tragedy cloud my thoughts. But there’s something else on my mind. Something just as important.
I turn to Nana Mama. “Any news from Alex or Bree?”
“Not a word,” she says. “But that doesn’t worry me. It means they’re working hard to find our boy. When they have good news, they’ll let us know.”
I hear voices from the living room. I’m expecting to hear Ali, Alex’s youngest, but I’m surprised when I hear another familiar voice.
Then Jannie and Ali, the two younger Cross kids, burst into the kitchen.
“What are you doing here, Jannie?” I ask my goddaughter as she comes over for a hug.
Usually, I’d get a bright smile, but not today. “I left campus to be here with the family,” she says. “Any news about Damon?”
I shake my head. “Not yet. But it’s early. What are you two up to this morning?”
“Thought I’d take Ali with me on a loop,” she says. “He can bike while I run. We need to get out of the house. Can’t stand being cooped up.”
“Running?” asks Nana. “Where?” I can hear the concern in her voice.
“Nowhere special,” Jannie says. “We’ll maybe go up to the Mall and back.”
I put down my fork. “Nope. No way.”
My tone is so forceful that Ali scrunches his face and Jannie rocks back a bit. “Why not?”
“I want you to stay off the streets. I’d rather you work out at the King-Greenleaf Center.” I pump my hands into the air. “Use the machines. Make it an arms day.”
“Is this because of what happened yesterday?”
“Yes. It is.”
Nana Mama says, “You two listen to John. He knows what he’s talking about.”
I turn to her. “Thanks. I appreciate the backup.”
Nana smiles. “These two know better than to defy me.” She stares at her great-grandchildren with her hands on her hips. “Isn’t that right?”
Ali and Jannie respond in unison, “Yes, Nana.” They both know the discussion is over.
Jannie walks over and opens the refrigerator, leans in, and pulls out a couple bottles of water.
My phone rings. I pick up. “Sampson here.”
“John, it’s Anna Rizzo.” She sounds tense.
“Morning. What’s up?”
“There’s been another bombing.”
Damn it!
I ask Rizzo to hold on, then I stand up and look around the kitchen. “Change of plans. Nobody’s going anywhere today. Except me.”
