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I pointed to my face.
She reached for me as if I had some confidence issue. “You have a lovely face.”
“I have what is colloquially referred to as resting bitch face.”
“Oh.” She nodded sagely. “I also have that. Though I don’t believe it had a name when I was younger.”
“But Pop-Pop didn’t mind your RBF.”
“RBF.” She laughed in delight as if I’d made that up all by myself. “No, he didn’t mind. But he was also more evolved.”
“In that regard,” I said, leaning back in my chair, “men have not made much progress in the last fifty years.” I shook my head when Nan offered me another chocolate. “But you should try this one.” I pointed to an oblong-shaped chocolate. “Coconut cream inside.”
“Yum.” She picked up the candy with her long, refined fingers. Though they were now weathered and pale with years, she still got her nails done weekly.
“Have you thought about moving in with Uncle Kevin any more?”
She leveled me with a reproachful frown. “Is that why you’re here? To talk me into it?”
“No.” I tried my best to appear offended, although I had been tasked by my uncle with persuading her. “This is our monthly dinner.”
She crossed her arms, the picture of stoic independence. She had been born and raised in Philadelphia and always said she never planned on leaving. After my grandfather had passed, everyone assumed she’d move out of the house they’d lived in, but she was steadfast and determined to stay. It was only three years ago we’d convinced her to sell their house and move in to this apartment, where she would be surrounded by people if she needed anything. I talked to her every day, and Uncle Kevin was with her as often as possible, but we walked a fine line of supporting her and pissing her off by being too overbearing. She had a pretty good cold shoulder when she wanted to.
“I’m not going to move in with someone else to live like a pet.”
“Nan, come on, that’s hyperbolic. You’d have just as much independence there as you do here, but if you needed something, Uncle Kevin would be right there.”
“Yes, because I’d be in a rocking chair like some old crone, knitting.”
“Do you even know how to knit?”
She waved the question away. “I’m staying here. End of story.”
“Whatever you want to do,” I acquiesced, noting the time. It was almost nine, and I’d been there since six. “I guess I better get going.”
“Next time, see if Kennedy will come,” she said, standing up when I did.
“I’ll try, but you know her.” My phone buzzed. “Speak of the devil.”
“It’s your sister?”
I nodded as I read the text message from her informing me Dean was at her bar. I answered absently as I put my coat on.
OK. Why are you telling me?
Kennedy
IDK. Thought it might be of interest. It’s a bachelor party.
“What’s she saying?” Nan asked, shoving the box of chocolates at me.
I shook my head and stuffed my phone into my coat pocket. “Nothing. Letting me know she saw Dean at the bar she’s working at.”
“Oh?”
I pointed a stern finger at her. “Don’t get any ideas in your head. Nothing’s going on. We’re…” I nearly choked on the word. “Friends.”
“Friends?” She walked with me to the door. “Well, that’s an improvement.”
