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"Do you really want to go to law school?" I ask her, my eyes searching hers.
She stares at me for a couple of seconds and shrugs. I have a feeling the answer is no. I want to tell her that she doesn't have to do things to make other people happy. She doesn't have to make decisions in life that aren't for her, but I know that she's selfless. I know that she thinks of others before herself, and I know I'm a hypocrite for telling her that she should just live her life and not care about other people because obviously if I was doing the same thing, then I wouldn't have a fake fiancée in the first place.
“I don’t know.” She mumbles and looks down.
"Come on," I say, squeezing her hand. "Let's go and meet the crowds." We walk down the stairs and immediately my grandma and her best friend Maisy are at my side. Maisy is the exact opposite of my grandma, with her purple hair and her big brown eyes. She's dressed in a red shirt and black pants, and she has banana earrings hanging from her ears.There’s a wide smile on her familiar face. She's my grandma's oldest friend and her exact opposite and I love her as if she were family.
"Maisy, this is Jackson's fiancée, I believe," my grandma says, staring at Zara with narrowed judgmental eyes. "I'm Jackson's grandmother."
"Hi. I'm Zara Hathaway." Zara offers her hand and they shake.
My grandma looks her up and down and I can tell she's not immediately impressed. I’m about to say something when she turns to nod at Maisy. "This is my best friend, Maisy."
"Hi, Maisy. It's nice to meet you," Zara says softly, and then she looks at me with a wry smile. I beam at her and nod. I want her to know that I'm proud of her and I'm grateful that she's here.
“And you too,” Maisy nods slightly. I see Maisy's eyes on me and then back on Zara and then back on me. She smiles. "Good to see you, Jackson."
"You too, Maisy," I say and then reach over and give her a quick kiss on the cheek. "You're looking well."
"Thank you." She beams and pats her hair. "You're looking very handsome and I must say your fiancée is very pretty, very different from what I would've expected, but," she looks over at my grandma, "she seems to be what I would have picked for you."
"Really?" I stare at her in surprise.
My grandma's eyes widen and she looks shocked. "What are you talking about, Maisy?"
"Nothing, but sometimes the stars tell us everything we need to know." She looks at Zara for a couple of seconds and then nods. "You're from Florida?"
"Yeah," Zara says in surprise.
My jaw drops. "Did you guess that?" I ask her. Was Maisy clairvoyant after all?
"No, she didn't guess that," my grandma interrupts. "I told her that Zara's people were just rednecks from Florida.”
"Grandma," I say, staring at her, and she shrugs. If she continues being rude, I will have to have a talk with her.
"What? You couldn't marry a Kennedy or a Bush?"
I look over at Zara, hopeful she’s not upset. She just grins. "Sorry I'm just a Hathaway, and I'm not related to Anne Hathaway either."
"Who?" my grandma says, and I look back over at Zara.
"She doesn't know actresses or actors."
"I know Brad Pitt," my grandma says, and Zara laughs.
"I think we all know Brad Pitt. He's dishy, though not as dishy as your grandson," Zara says quickly, and I chuckle.
My grandma looks at her with a small smile on her face. "Well, you've got a sense of humor. That's good." She looks thoughtful. “What do you do?—.”
"Grandma, don't grill Zara."
"I'm not grilling her. I just want to figure out why you proposed to the girl. You've barely known her and, well," she looks Zara up and down, "I can't say that it's because of her fashion sense. Where did you get that outfit, dear?"
Zara bites down on her lip. "Old Navy."
"Old who?" My grandma looks at me. "What did she say?"
"Old Navy, Grandma."
