Cooked Goose

the phone rang.
    “Someday I’ll learn not to bring you in here with me,” she told the cordless phone as she lifted it from the top of the hamper and pushed the On button.
    “Whoever this is, I’m not very happy with you,” she said into the receiver.
    The rich, throaty chuckle on the other end made Savannah smile from ear to ear and forget all about the intrusion.
    “Gran!” she said, “I take it back. You’re the only person on the planet who’s welcome to call me anytime, day or night.”
    “Let me guess...” her grandmother replied in an eloquent Southern drawl as soft as Georgia peach fuzz, “...you’re taking a bubble bath, roses or gardenia. And you probably have a few votive candles lit and—”
    Savannah laughed. “You know me too well.”
    “I taught you everything you know about being a woman.”
    “That’s true,” Savannah replied, “but I’m still waiting for you to teach me everything that you know.”
    “Now, darlin’, you can’t handle that much knowledge... not just yet. It’s too much power for one so young.”
    “I’m over forty.”
    “You’re half my age. You’re a baby.”
    Savannah sank lower into the bubbles and felt the past week’s tension melt away, thanks to the silky warmth of the water and her grandmother’s soothing presence that could reach three thousand miles and rejuvenate her spirit.
    “You know, Gran,” she said, “I’d like to think that when I’m your age I’d have half your vinegar.”
    She heard a ladylike sniff on the other end. “Hell, child. You’d have been lucky to have half my vinegar last week. Are you ready for Christmas?”
    “Ready for Christmas?” Some of Savannah’s stress returned with a rush. “A lot’s been going on around here. I haven’t even started yet. And you?”
    “All done... except for you. What would you like Santa to bring you?”
    “A big, handsome hunk, wearing a sprig of mistletoe for a mustache.”
    “Mmmm...” Gran considered the request thoughtfully for a moment. “I think that could be arranged. I’ll run over to the old folks’ home and see if I can scare up somethin’ for you.”
    “Gee, thanks.”
    “Hey, some of those fellas are pretty spunky. They’re always chasing me around.”
    Savannah grinned. “You’d better run fast. You know what they want.”
    Another sniff. “I know what they want, all right. They’re after my pension check, but I’m gonna spend it all by myself. I already raised one man—your grandpa, may he rest in peace—and that’s enough toil and trouble for any woman.” Savannah lifted a handful of suds and watched them glisten, irridescent in the candlelight. “Have you heard, I’m going to be having company in a few days?”
    “Of course I’ve heard. In a town this size, we know what everybody had for supper last night and we’ve got an opinion on the subject.”
    “So, what’s your opinion on this subject?”
    “Butch is a jackass, and your sister doesn’t have the sense the good Lord gave a goose, God love ‘em both. And now they’re gonna afflict you with their malarkey. You’re just lucky,
    I reckon.”
    “And are the twins still as adorable as always?”
    “Even more so. Do you have a freshly recharged fire extinguisher?”
    “Ah, I think I do—”
    “And something you can use for a tourniquet?”
    “Do you really think I’ll need—”
    “And do you have enough money stashed away for some major home repairs because by the time they leave, you’re gonna need a new roof and carpeting.”
    Beep.
    “Excuse me, Gran, but I’ve got another call coming through.” Savannah sighed, surrendering all hope of that relaxing bath. “Can you hold for a minute?”
    “I suppose, but remember, I’m eighty-six; I could kick off any minute now.”
    Savannah punched the Flash button. “Hello.”
    The instant she heard the sobbing on the other end, she knew someone was in bad trouble. “ Savannah , it’s me, Margie, Margie Bloss.”
    “Yes, of course, Margie. What’s wrong?”
    “I got away from him. He was going to kill me, but I wrecked my car and ran away.”
    Savannah sat, bolt upright, in the tub, splashing water all over the floor. “The rapist?”
    “Uh-huh. The Santa guy.”
    “He attacked you?”
    “No, I mean, he got into my car with me and made me drive out to the orange grove, but I got away and—
    “Margie, calm down, sweetheart, and tell me where you are.” She vaulted out of the tub, yanked a towel off the rack, and