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“Yeah, that she is. She danced a little when she was young.”
“That’s where you get it from?”
“Most definitely.”
He chuckles at a few adolescent photos, and I move to block his view. “Enough with this, we don’t want to keep her waiting.”
“Did you get lost?” Nana calls as I take the hallway that leads to the kitchen with Lance trailing behind.
“Nope,” I say as she comes into view, her back to the two of us as she stirs the same metal pot she’s used for years. In her home is where I feel the safest. The smells, the fact that very little décor has changed over the years. It’s my place of peace, where I block out the outside world and exist in hers. I wrap my arms around her where she stands, inhaling her scented lotion. “Smells so good. Hanukkah Sameach, Nana.”
“You too, Dove.” She sets the spoon down and pulls me to her. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve been busy with the new show.”
“Ah well, that’s a good excuse. Speaking of, your mother called this morning. They won’t be coming for New Year’s either. Says she has to work.”
I glance over at Lance, who follows our conversation carefully. “Maybe next year.”
“Maybe.” We both sound skeptical because when it comes to my parents, we aren’t sure they’ll ever be in the same room again, let alone celebrating the holidays. Lance hasn’t said a word about Dad so far, and I’ve been thankful. When I release her from my grip, she turns and drinks him in. “And who do we have here?”
“Lance,” he offers, extending his hand across the space before all five foot one of my nana pulls him in for a hug. She’s in her early seventies but doesn’t look a day over fifty. She takes immaculate care of herself. Today, she’s dressed to the nines in cashmere and slacks, her hair artfully braided to frame her face. “Ah, Lance, well aren’t you a surprise.” She makes no show of ignorance to who he is. She’s very aware of him and our story. I’ve confided in her more than I have René, which is why there is a spark of concern in her eyes when she asks the million-dollar question. “What brings you to New York?”
I spare him the lie and do so on his behalf. “He had a fight here.”
“I can see.” She pulls away from him, scrutinizing him for his life choice. “Are you in pain?”
“No, ma’am.”
She huffs. “Grown men beating each other in a boxing ring. You don’t think that’s a bit ridiculous?”
Lance grins, taking her ballbusting for what it is. “It can feel that way at times.”
“As long as you’re aware. Seems like no one has managed to knock any sense into you yet.”
“Nana!” I exclaim, eyes widening.
“I can see where Harper gets her candidness,” he drawls amused.
“We Ancel women don’t mince words,” Nana offers without apology.
“I like that about her.”
“She seems to like something about you too.” I can feel the blush creep up my neck as she grills him. “So, you’re staying in town just for the holiday?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“How nice. Well, let’s get you fed. Dove, get the good china from the cabinet.”
I do as I’m told. “Saw Charlie yesterday,” I say before giving Lance a conspiratorial wink. Nana sighs. I’ve been trying to get them together for a few years. Grandpa died six years ago and left us all with broken hearts. I don’t like Nana alone, but she assures me she prefers it this way.
“Where did you see him?”
“He let us tour the Garden. You know he’s staying in town for the holidays. I think he might be alone.”
Nana looks over to Lance. “And then you realize how much your pushy granddaughter is like you and wonder if you should have raised her different. Bring me your bowl, Lance.”
Lance chuckles, bringing his bowl to Nana as she ladles in some soup. “Only as much as you need. Never a bite more.”
