I cover my mouth to hide my laughter. Klaus’s eyes narrow on me and I shrug.
And here we go. Because if we can’t sell this to Nana, no one will buy it.
“Nana. Can you please stop accosting my boyfriend? You’ll scare him straight into the ocean.”
She’s barely acknowledged me, but at my words, her hands fall from Klaus’s cheek and she goes straight to giving him a huge hug, almost lifting him off his feet. For a small woman, and knocking on eighty soon, she’s surprisingly strong.
“Well, thank you heaven for all that’s good in the world for bringing this strapping young man into my favorite granddaughter’s life. Praise the Lord!”
“Nana, this is Klaus. Klaus this is my nana. Also, I’m your only granddaughter.”
I humph. I still haven’t gotten one of her famous hugs. Nice to know where I stand in her eyes.
Klaus hugs her back, although it looks might he’s more trying to pry her off him in the nicest way possible. “It’s lovely to meet you, Nana. I’ve heard so much about you.”
She glares at me. “You didn’t tell him about St. Patrick’s Day, did you?”
“I’ll tell him now if you don’t stop grabbing his backside and give me my hug.”
Her hands lift off his black dress pants although her bottom lip presses out in a pout.
I’m lying. I’ve already told Klaus all about the day she drank so much green beer she ended up throwing up in my toilet. Green puke.
Nasty.
She lost her dentures that day as well. Pretty sure they fell out the third time we flushed.
“Don’t worry,” Klaus teases, smirking at her in that lethal way of his. “I won’t tell anyone about the dentures.”
She gasps, “Why you!” She swats at his chest and pauses. Pressing her palm there. “My. Well… you are just… there isn’t a lick of fat on you, is there.”
“No, ma’am.” He covers her hand with his and pulls it off. Her frail fingers cling to the fabric of his shirt longer than necessary.
“Nana,” I warn. “My hello?”
She grins up at Klaus. “Klaus, is that your name, young man?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You’re not going to put her heart through the meat grinder like that dumbass Roman did, are you?”
“Don’t even own a meat grinder.” He draws an X over his heart, once again bringing Nana’s gaze to his pecs. “And no way. Jilly-Bean’s way too special to hurt.”
I swear she flushes. “Jilly-Bean,” she mutters more to herself and then finally, finally comes to me. “He calls you Jilly-Bean,” she says, and she pulls me in for one of her famous hugs.
She smells sweet, like she always does—gardenias and fruity wine. Her hug feels so darn good, moisture gathers in my eyes. “Yeah, Nana. He calls me Jilly-Bean.”
“I like him.”
“I like him too, but you can’t fool me. You just like the way he looks.”
“Well, you can’t lie to me and say it’s not one of his best features.”
Behind her, Klaus is watching us, amusement shining all over him. He crosses his arms over his chest and flashes me a cocksure grin.
“Yes well, I definitely like him more when he’s not speaking,” I say, sticking my tongue out at him.
He wiggles his brows, gaze dropping to my tongue, my mouth. I suck it back in and clamp my lips together. “Seriously, Nana. I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Wouldn’t miss the chance to see you for anything in the world, and besides, we might not always like our family, but they’re the only ones we got so we gotta take care of ‘em as best we can. Ain’t that right?”
She pulls back and presses her warm palm to my cheek.
“I suppose.” I don’t really mean it. Far as I’m concerned, my family can take a long walk right off Battery Park. The waves shouldn’t pound them that hard back into the rocky wall that keeps Charleston from falling into the ocean.
“Now, now. Looks to me like you’re not hurting all that much anymore, are you?”
“Not hurting. Still embarrassing, though.”
“I think the only one who will be embarrassed this weekend is Julianna. Mark my words. That girl doesn’t know what’s coming.”
“What do you mean?”
“Time will tell.” She pats my hand and then loops her arm through mine. Nana’s always been vibrant. She’s full of personality and sass and has an attitude much larger than her petite frame. Next to me and Klaus, she looks dwarfed, but that doesn’t stop her from commanding the room. “So, let’s go for a walk. You can help get me to my room so I can prepare for your mother’s tea time.”
She snorts. She actually snorts, earning a massive smile from Klaus and an eye roll to the glass ceiling from me.
“And on the way, Klaus, you can tell me all about yourself. Imagine my surprise, Jillian showing up with someone like you. Funny how she never mentioned she was dating anyone, but I sure have heard a lot about you.”
“Is that right?” He swoops to her other side, taking her other arm and effectively kicking me to the rear so we can walk through the door.
With a glimmer in his eyes, he continues. “Perhaps you and I have much to discuss then…” He trails off, and I flinch. I’ve never called her anything but Nana. And no one calls her Iris.
“Nana,” she supplies. “Everyone calls me, Nana.”
“All right, then, Nana. You tell me everything Jillian’s said about me, and I’ll tell you everything about me and why I like your granddaughter so much. Deal?”
“Oh yes. That’s the best deal I’ve heard all week.”
8
Jillian
We escort Nana to her room where I sit like a bystander as Nana and Klaus talk about everything from hockey to the first time we met to how we became friends and then turned it into more. Strangely enough, I become the third-wheel, barely given a moment to speak, but a frequent focus of their smiles and winks—from Klaus, anyway.
Klaus sells our lovely relationship so well—speaking of how it was only a few weeks ago when we realized that the friendship we’ve clung to was so much more and now we’re madly in love—I almost believe him myself.
Probably because I want to believe him.
When Nana can no longer hide her yawns, she kicks us out so she can rest before our tea time. All of her vibrant conversation with Klaus must have worn her out. Or maybe it was the fake napping she did earlier.
“Come on. I’ll show you where my room is.”
I take Klaus down the hallway, past the solarium we originally came from.
“Your nana is a trip and a half,” he says, bumping into my shoulder. “I like her.”
“She’s hilarious. Just wait until she gets a drink or two in her. That’s when Mom usually gets mad at her.”
We reach my bedroom door and zings of nerves trickle from my fingertips to my arm. Klaus and I have crashed at each other’s places plenty over the years, but this is my childhood home. Where I grew up. Where I thought at one point, I’d be the one marrying Roman. Pretty sure behind photos of me on my corkboard above my desk are paper hearts with our initials scribbled inside of them.