Gran takes a long swig of the iced tea and then lets out a happy sigh.
“See, girls. This Wilbur boy, he acted the way he did because he don’t know no better. From what Jamie Lynn says, he’s a high-flying, big-headed, richie rich—”
“Peckerwood,” Diedre adds.
“Who thinks he’s better than everyone else and who thinks he can treat people poorly just because he has money.”
“Okay?” I’m not catching on, but by the sparkle in Gran’s eyes, she’s thinking of something big.
“Oh. Ohhh.” Diedre laughs and then claps her hands.
Gran nods. “You want the money he owes you. But what if you can get something better?”
“What’s better than that?” I frown at them both.
Gran grins, and there’s a bright, mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “I’ll tell you what’s better. A good ol’ fashion helping of just desserts.”