taking Arianna along hadn’t been in the plans. However, he was feeling a little off-balance with the sexy redhead and he wanted a neutral opinion on the woman. One moment he wanted to kiss her, and the next she had him wanting to storm out of her gallery.
“Around ten more minutes depending on traffic,” he said. Nana lived in a suburb outside D.C. in the same house she’d lived in for the last fifty years. Lance’s mom kept trying to get her to move into assisted living, but Nana was having none of it. A lot of the maintenance and visits fell onto Lance’s shoulders since he was the local family member. Not that he minded: his nana was one of the sharpest women he’d ever met. He couldn’t wait for her to meet Arianna and give her opinion.
They drove the rest of the way in near silence until Arianna switched on the CD player to let the sound of Bruno Mars vibrate throughout the car. Traffic was light, and they made good time to Nana’s sixties brick split-level.
After he parked on the street in front of her house, Arianna opened the door to the car, then grabbed his arm. “Wait. Is your grandmother expecting us? I feel rude showing up. Why don’t I wait in the car while you fix her computer problem?”
Her obvious nervousness was adorable. She was scared of an eighty-three-year-old woman, who, granted, could kick his ass to Tuesday with her no-nonsense speak? “I spoke to her yesterday. She’s expecting me.”
“ You . Not me. I don’t want to startle her.”
He rolled his eyes and got out of the car to come around to Arianna’s side to get her. “Don’t be a wimp. Nana doesn’t bite or scare easily.”
He stood outside the car while Arianna swiped on some lipstick and fumbled with her already perfect hair.
“I already told you, you look gorgeous. Get out of the car.”
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” she said and used his offered hand to pull her up out of the seat. They made it about five steps toward the front door when Arianna remembered her cell phone charging in the car and walked back to get it.
They finally made it to the front door without further delay, and he knocked to give a warning, then used his key in the door. “Nana? It’s me, Lance.” He stepped into the foyer, tugging Arianna along with him.
His tiny, wiry, but spritely grandmother appeared in the kitchen doorway facing the entry. “Lance. You made it. I was beginning to worry.”
He bent to plant a kiss on her over-rouged cheek. “You? Worry? I don’t believe it.”
Nana chuckled. “You got me. I knew Mr. Reliable grandson was on his way. How’s your leg? Off the crutches, I see.” She turned to Arianna in a whirl. “And who’s this?”
Arianna stepped forward extending a hand. “Hi, Mrs.…” She turned to Lance, a question on her face. “…Brown? I’m Arianna Rose.”
Nana pulled her into an embrace. “Not Mrs. Brown. Mrs. Gold, I’m Lance’s maternal grandmother, but no one calls me that. Call me Nana. Everybody does.”
Arianna clung to Nana’s shoulders with a look of pure bemusement. “Okay, Nana. It’s nice to meet you.” She stepped back closer to Lance.
“How nice you were able to join my grandson on this daytime visit. No job?” Nana asked, cutting straight to the chase as usual.
Pride bled through Arianna’s answer. “It’s Sunday, and I have a job. I own an art gallery in Georgetown,” she said. “So my hours are flexible.”
“Nana, I’m going to take a look at your computer,” Lance said, and headed toward the stairs.
“Wonderful. Arianna can keep me company while I get lunch on the table.”
At least Nana didn’t expect her to help cook the lunch. She’d be sorely disappointed, but Arianna could, and did, set an artistic table.
“How long have you known Lance?” Nana asked while whisking together some oil and vinegar for the salad. “He’s never mentioned you before.”
“We only met last night,” she said.
Nana whirled from facing the countertop
“Around ten more minutes depending on traffic,” he said. Nana lived in a suburb outside D.C. in the same house she’d lived in for the last fifty years. Lance’s mom kept trying to get her to move into assisted living, but Nana was having none of it. A lot of the maintenance and visits fell onto Lance’s shoulders since he was the local family member. Not that he minded: his nana was one of the sharpest women he’d ever met. He couldn’t wait for her to meet Arianna and give her opinion.
They drove the rest of the way in near silence until Arianna switched on the CD player to let the sound of Bruno Mars vibrate throughout the car. Traffic was light, and they made good time to Nana’s sixties brick split-level.
After he parked on the street in front of her house, Arianna opened the door to the car, then grabbed his arm. “Wait. Is your grandmother expecting us? I feel rude showing up. Why don’t I wait in the car while you fix her computer problem?”
Her obvious nervousness was adorable. She was scared of an eighty-three-year-old woman, who, granted, could kick his ass to Tuesday with her no-nonsense speak? “I spoke to her yesterday. She’s expecting me.”
“ You . Not me. I don’t want to startle her.”
He rolled his eyes and got out of the car to come around to Arianna’s side to get her. “Don’t be a wimp. Nana doesn’t bite or scare easily.”
He stood outside the car while Arianna swiped on some lipstick and fumbled with her already perfect hair.
“I already told you, you look gorgeous. Get out of the car.”
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” she said and used his offered hand to pull her up out of the seat. They made it about five steps toward the front door when Arianna remembered her cell phone charging in the car and walked back to get it.
They finally made it to the front door without further delay, and he knocked to give a warning, then used his key in the door. “Nana? It’s me, Lance.” He stepped into the foyer, tugging Arianna along with him.
His tiny, wiry, but spritely grandmother appeared in the kitchen doorway facing the entry. “Lance. You made it. I was beginning to worry.”
He bent to plant a kiss on her over-rouged cheek. “You? Worry? I don’t believe it.”
Nana chuckled. “You got me. I knew Mr. Reliable grandson was on his way. How’s your leg? Off the crutches, I see.” She turned to Arianna in a whirl. “And who’s this?”
Arianna stepped forward extending a hand. “Hi, Mrs.…” She turned to Lance, a question on her face. “…Brown? I’m Arianna Rose.”
Nana pulled her into an embrace. “Not Mrs. Brown. Mrs. Gold, I’m Lance’s maternal grandmother, but no one calls me that. Call me Nana. Everybody does.”
Arianna clung to Nana’s shoulders with a look of pure bemusement. “Okay, Nana. It’s nice to meet you.” She stepped back closer to Lance.
“How nice you were able to join my grandson on this daytime visit. No job?” Nana asked, cutting straight to the chase as usual.
Pride bled through Arianna’s answer. “It’s Sunday, and I have a job. I own an art gallery in Georgetown,” she said. “So my hours are flexible.”
“Nana, I’m going to take a look at your computer,” Lance said, and headed toward the stairs.
“Wonderful. Arianna can keep me company while I get lunch on the table.”
At least Nana didn’t expect her to help cook the lunch. She’d be sorely disappointed, but Arianna could, and did, set an artistic table.
“How long have you known Lance?” Nana asked while whisking together some oil and vinegar for the salad. “He’s never mentioned you before.”
“We only met last night,” she said.
Nana whirled from facing the countertop
Similar Books
