What Happens Over the Summer

"I heard you had an interesting case this morning," my grandmother said over dinner that night.
I schooled my features not to reveal anything as I looked up at her. She was a sweet-looking old lady and for the most part, she was, unless you pissed her off. Kind of like me. I'd never really known my mother; both of my parents had died when I was five in a car crash. My mother's parents had been mine as well since.
"Not interesting, just unusual," I said carelessly.
"Well I'm glad it was nothing too horrible anyway," my grandfather said around a mouthful of steak. I was picking at my salad; dinner was the one meal I tried to eat healthy. "Some piers can close with enough bad publicity."
"We've never had bad publicity Gramps," I reminded him.
He grumbled something under his breath about, "not yet."
I rolled my eyes and smiled fondly. On the outside the old man was a grumpy old geezer who's favorite pastime was complaining about everything, espeacially because of a fall a few years ago that had broken his hip and prevented him from overseeing much of the day-to-day operations on the pier. On the inside though, he was a marshmallow that was a sucker for kids or anything that needed his help. Over the years I'd lived with him, he'd brought home several sea gulls with broken wings and nursed them back to health, stray dogs and cats that he'd found new homes for, even a kid that had been seperated from her parents. Everyone told me that I was just like him; the whole thing with Max was just going to reinforce that view. Not that I minded being just like Gramps.
"If it wasn't interesting, why did you walk off and leave another guard in charge of what was your job?" Grams asked.
Shit.
"You what?" Gramps asked, pinning me with his peircing blue eyes. "You left a job for someone else?"
"That's not like you at all Jo," Grams said.
"I-had other things to do. I didn't want to spend all afternoon babysitting someone to make sure they didn't get away with a couple questions Cheif was going to ask."
"They could have found another guard to do whatever was so important," Gramps pointed out.
"Chas was already patrolling the area. I was leaving them a guard short which we can't afford in the season," I pointed out. Gramps pursed his lips, agreeing grudingly.
"It's still not like you Jo."
"But a good use of manpower," Gramps said. "I knew I was making the right decision putting you in charge after Cheif retires."
I nearly choked on a carrot slice. "What?" I demanded.
"Cheif wants to retire this year. You're already pretty much second in command. It's only natural that you take over."
"Some of the older guards are going to be pissed." I ignored Grams' disapproving look.
"The older guards all think they're too old to keep up with running security, most of the young guys don't want the position, and you know the pier better than anyone except maybe me."
"Did you ever think that I might not want the job either? That's a lot of work."
"I think you're up to it," Gramps said confidently. "I trained you myself."
"Stuborn old geezer," I said fondly.
"Damn right."
Grams shot him a look. "I meant darn right," Gramps corrected halfheartedly. "You begin training at the end of the month, when most of the crowds are cleared out of this place."
Hopefully R.J. would be gone by then too.