“Hey, Lola, what a welcome.” I give her a squeeze back and she nestles into my waist.
“Hey!” Sam shouts. “Where’s my welcome home?” He places his hands on his hips.
“I see you all the time,” she teases as she pulls my arm over to where she was drawing.
“What are you drawing?” I ask.
“Witches. It is nearly Halloween, Harri, and I want to be a witch! Do you like witches?”
“You’re obsessed with witches.” Sam laughs, shaking his head.
Her little nose scrunches in anger. “They are real. Nana says they are!”
“Of course she does.” He laughs and hops over the counter to the other side. Gloria smacks him with a tea towel.
“There’s a door for a reason, Samuel,” she lectures playfully.
He kisses her cheek and heads to the coffee machine.
Gloria tuts and turns to me. “So, Harri, how was your first day as our new grocer?”
“Wow, news travels fast, doesn’t it?” I say, surprised.
“Oh, nothing is sacred in Brindlewood,” she replies.
“I can see that.” I chuckle.
She smiles, trying to work out if I am joking or genuinely concerned at the rate that gossip travels. She must settle on me joking as she lets out a little giggle and goes to get some plates. “Banana bread OK?” she asks.
I walk to the counter licking my lips. “Sam said there would be banana bread!”
“Made it just this morning. I wake up and decide what I want to bake that day. Keeps the mind fresh, you see. Especially in my golden age.”
Sam comes up behind her. “You’re as young as you look, Nana. Twenty-five next week, isn’t it?”
“Oh, stop it, you. You and your sister have aged me terribly! But I wouldn’t have it any other way.” She turns to me. “You know, Harri, these two have been my rock for most of my life. I’m so fortunate that I got to relive having children again, and hopefully this time… well, they don’t end up like…” She pauses so as not to hurt Sam or Lola. “You know.” I nod in agreement understanding she means their mother. The one who has chosen addiction over them. I still don’t understand it. Gloria brings me back into the room. “So, Harri, did you want children?”
Sam chokes on the sip of latte he has just made us, burning his lips. “Jeez, Nan, personal and all!”
“I’m just asking. Harri’s not offended, are you, dear?”
I love this. She is such a nan. Like my own. Like all the nans and grans I have encountered since being here. “Possibly, one day.” I smile.
“You’d both make beautiful children,” she mutters to herself, thinking we can’t hear. We can. Maybe she wanted us to hear. She winks and carries on cleaning. OK, she wanted us to hear.
Sam is rubbing his now burnt bottom lip and leaning on the counter next to me. “Sorry about that. She likes to know everything that woman.”
“It’s fine. It’s a very ‘nana’ question to ask a young woman.” I laugh. “Shall we sit? My feet are killing.”
“Not used to demanding work, are we, Harri?” he says in jest.
“Not since I’ve been here, no.” I sit down near the log burner and sip my latte. Sam sits opposite me. “Thanks for this again. I seem to be thanking you a lot recently.”
He looks up from his cup. “What for?”
“Just being around. It’s nice to have someone to chat to that doesn’t ask if I’m going to a premier this weekend or if I can get them into Opal or whatever nightclub is hot on the list that week.”
“I hate nightclubs and I have never been to a premier and don’t think I’d miss it if I didn’t. There you go.” He drinks his latte feeling happy with his answer.
