I gasped and held on to my father.
"Son of a bitchass motherhumping asshats—arghhhh!" she screeched as she fell ungracefully from the sky. It wasn't until that moment I realized the roof of the palace was gone. The musical voice did not match the language flying from her mouth or the otherworldly glamour she possessed.
The disheveled beauty got to her feet and glanced around impatiently. She wore a gown of sheer golden gossamer that floated around her magically. Her hair was a mass of fiery red curls and her skin was a pale porcelain, but it was her eyes. . . Her eyes were the clearest blue I'd ever seen and they sparkled. She was quite simply the most gorgeous crazy woman in the universe.
Her power filled the room. It was earthy with a dangerous sensual undertone to it. I would give anything to be back in the commissary covered in stinky beef stew. Anything.
"Satan, you little bastard," she snapped as the gentle breeze in the room shifted into a slightly menacing wind. "I know you're here. I want to see my granddaughter. Now."
"Mother," Satan bellowed joyously as he stepped out from behind the rock. "To what do I owe this pleasure?" He placed me firmly behind him and waited for her next move.
"Cut the shit. You were supposed to visit me and I made a cake," she yelled. "You didn't show up and I ate it. I ate the entire cake. Do you have any idea how many hours I had to pole dance to work off an entire cake?"
"Seven?" he guessed.
She froze, stared at him for a tense moment, and then threw her head back and laughed with delight. "You're right! I always knew you were smarter than your brother. He guessed three."
My father stood even taller, clearly pleased with himself that he'd bested his brother, God. Forget about my Grandma Gigi—my entire family was nuts.
"Mother, while it's alarmingly wonderful and highly destructive to see you," he said, gesturing to the wrecked ballroom, "why are you here and what do you want with Dixie?"
"I want to see her," she pouted and stamped her small foot.
"You've not wanted to see her for twenty-one years. I don't see. . ."
"You know exactly why I've ignored her, Satan," she said in a deadly quiet voice.
My father had no reply. He bowed his head and shook it. What was going on here? Something was wonky and I'd bet my embarrassing virginity that no one was going to enlighten me.
"I know she's behind you. Dixie, come out and greet me," Gigi demanded.
My father turned to me and his golden eyes burned into mine. "It's all right. She won't harm you. Go to her."
Sucking in a huge breath, I stepped out from behind my dad and warily approached my grandmother. My fear disappeared and was replaced by curiosity. . .the kind that was deadly to cats.
"Oh my," she giggled, completely disarming me. "You are exquisite. You look like your father, but you have so very much of her in you."
She caressed my face gently. I automatically leaned into her warm and delicate hand. My maternal upbringing had been virtually nonexistent—attention from a mother figure was addicting, no matter how insane she might be.
"Do you mean my mother?" I asked tentatively, hoping she didn't remove her hand. "Do you know her?"
"Well of course I do. She's a crazy irresponsible assbuckle. The next time I see her I will. . ."
"Mother," Satan roared.
"Well, she is," she shot back. "Anyhoo, I got a phone with cells. Would you like to see it?"
"Um. . ." I was hoping she would continue her tirade on my mother. It was the most information I'd ever heard.
"You mean a cell phone," my father corrected her.
"That's what I said." Her gaze narrowed dangerously and the wind in the room kicked up a few notches. Her fingers began to shoot little orange sparks, and I worried for the health and welfare of my dad and his home.
"I'd love to see it," I insisted quickly before she caused a Hellquake or leveled the Dark Palace completely.
"I want you to take a selfie of me," she demanded as she handed me a jewel-encrusted cell phone.
"Um, a selfie means you take it of yourself," I explained as she shoved her new toy into my hand.
"Exactly. Take a selfie of me."
Deciding further explanation of a selfie could end in violence I took several as she posed obscenely with a flowering vine.
"While it's wonderfully disturbing to watch you hump the vegetation, would you like to explain your presence?" my father asked as he partially hid himself behind a boulder.
"Yes, of course," Gigi said as she disengaged herself from the plant and planted a huge wet kiss on my cheek. Glancing at her phone, she grinned. "These would go positively viral on YouTube."
"Mother," Satan warned as he stepped up next to me.
As calming as my father's presence was, I realized to my utter shock I was not at all afraid of Mother Nature. It was clear that she loved me, which only confused me more.
"Why haven't you ever wanted me?" I asked her and she froze.
My father tensed beside me and his magic began to swirl with his mother's.
"Dear sweet child," she cooed. "It was for your safety, but now since you're leaving I needed to see you and tell you. . ."
"Enough," Satan shouted. "You know the rules. Would you put her in more danger than she's already in?"
This was unwelcome news to me. I was in danger?