My heart began beating faster and sweat beaded up on my lip. I quickly swiped it away and stood as tall as I could before she got near. I felt like I was going before the appellate court judges with a crappy case file in hand and no pants on.
“Who’s this young lady?” she asked when she was about four feet away, her watery blue eyes taking my measure. Her expression gave me no clue as to what she was thinking.
I held out my hand and stepped forward. “I’m Andie. It’s nice to meet you.”
She took my hand in a surprisingly strong grip and squeezed. “Nice to meet you, too. I hear you’re part of the family.”
My heart stopped for a few seconds and then raced to catch up. “Ummm … yes … I guess I am.”
I could feel Mack’s gaze burning into me, but I kept my eyes locked on the old woman. Her baby blue housedress matched the white cardigan over her shoulders and white patent leather low-heeled sandals perfectly. Her hair had obviously been done special for the occasion. Even though she wasn’t much bigger than a hobbit and had more wrinkles than a year-old raisin lost in the back of the pantry, she was still intimidating as hell.
“How do you like it here so far? I was told you’ve been here a few days.” She kept a grip on my hand, so I did the same with hers, not wanting her to feel like she was hanging onto a dead fish. I kept my fingers wrapped softly around her delicate, birdlike hand, marveling in the strength I could sense there.
“I’ve been here two days, actually, and I like it a lot. It’s gorgeous here.” I wasn’t shining her on, either. The beauty that Maeve had spoken of on my first night was obvious to me now. I would miss it greatly when I left.
“This place gets into your bones and never lets you go.” She continued to hold my hand as she turned. “Come on over here with me and show me what you’ve done.”
“What I’ve done?” My voice went up an octave, wondering if she was talking about what I thought she was talking about. How does she know about me and Mack?
“The food, darlin’, the food.” She gestured to the banquet table covered in dishes with foil on them. “What’d you make? What’s your specialty?”
I breathed out a sigh of relief. “Oh, I didn’t make anything. Maeve did it all.”
“Don’t you cook?” She looked a little bit outraged, and it was hard not to smile at her reaction.
“No, not really. I never learned.”
“Well, what about your mother? Didn’t she cook?”
I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak. My mother didn’t do a whole lot of anything other than act as a human punching bag for life’s biggest losers, but I wasn’t going to tell Grandma Lettie that. I had a feeling she’d ask why my mother hadn’t cut their testicles off.
“Not everyone comes from a family of great cooks, Grandma,” said Mack, setting her dish down on the table. “Maybe you can teach Andie a few things.”
“Sounds like I’m going to have to,” she said, once again focused on getting to the table. She took careful steps, but they were solid. I had a feeling she didn’t need to hold onto me, that she was just keeping me close so she could conduct her interrogation.
I glanced at Mack to find him grinning at both of us, like he was enjoying some inside joke. I stuck my tongue out at him but that only seemed to make him happier.
“Lift up the lid there,” she ordered, pointing at her pan.
I did as she asked. The only thing visible inside was a big hunk of aluminum foil.
“That there’s a beef brisket. Best one you’ll ever taste, guaranteed. I don’t mess around when it comes to brisket.”
I nodded sagely. “I can see that.”
She looked up at me with a frown. “I don’t see how, since it’s covered in the tin foil like that.”
Ian snickered behind me, but I ignored him. “But I’ve heard. So I can imagine what it looks like.” I smiled and nodded.
“You ever eat brisket?” she asked.
My smile fell off. “Uhh … no. Can’t say that I have.”
“Then how are you able to imagine it if you’ve never even seen one?”
“I’m creative?” My face went red as Ian busted out in guffaws.
She grinned at me, revealing perfect dentures. “I like you. You’re sassy.”
I grinned back, relief washing over me. “I like you too. You’re kind of sassy yourself.”
She cackled. “You’re dang right I am. Life’s too short to be sickly sweet all the time, don’t you think? Like that aspartame. Nasty aftertaste. Bah.”