The grand Mrs. Cassanova sighed before turning sideways in her seat to better face Libby. “When am I meeting this young lady? Your father wants to plan a barbecue for this weekend—”
Libby’s eyes widened. There was no way her acting skills would stand up to the challenge of her family’s scrutiny.
“That’s too soon,” she blurted.
“Too soon?” she repeated. “You’ve introduced her to every other person on Earth, and I refuse to learn anything about her from the internet. What will people think when they ask me about your new beau, and I can’t say a single thing about her?”
Libby tried and failed to return moisture to her mouth.
Her grandmother was right, but there was no way she’d make it ten minutes without folding. They didn’t know enough about each other yet; they needed more backstory.
She needed more time.
“If this weekend is too short notice, we can do the one after,” her grandmother said as if she was being magnanimous in her generosity.
“She has an upcoming art show,” Libby lied, hoping she didn’t sound as frantic as she felt. “She’s really swamped until then.”
“An art show? How wonderful. Where is it? I’d love to go.”Libby laughed nervously as her heart raced for new and unexpected reasons. “Mima, that’s way too much pressure, don’t you think?”
Her grandmother narrowed her eyes. “Doesn’t she want to meet us? What’s wrong with her? Doesn’t she value family?”
“No! Of course, that’s not it. She can’t wait to meet you and everybody, but I don’t want to make her night about me and my family.”
Considering her pleas for a moment, her grandmother acquiesced. “Very well. When will she be finished with her show? I’d like to plan something appropriate for our meeting.”
As her grandmother stood, so did Libby. “Don’t worry, Mima. As soon as she can take the time away, I’ll put something together. Is that okay?”
Her grandmother hesitated before nodding once. “Fine,”
she said as she started for the door. “But, Elisabeth, please.
No more surprises, okay?”
“No more surprises,” she said, reasonably certain it was a promise she couldn’t keep.
C H A P T E R 7
“GREAT WORK, CLASS,” Reagan said, slapping her hands on her denim covered thighs as she stood from the stool behind her station at the front of the room. “Those are some lovely fruit bowls. Please take them to the drying room and I’ll see you all tomorrow for trimming and firing, okay?”
As the mix of senior citizens and folks from the adult group home milled out of the studio portion of the huge industrial space, Reagan pulled o her canvas apron and set to washing the drying clay o her hands.
“You know, if you actually charged some of these people, you could make some decent money.”
Reagan craned her head toward the woman in the doorway as her final student waved goodbye. “I’m not interested in your business advice, Imani,” she said before the tall woman with long black and turquoise loose braids could start her lecturing.
Long legs exposed by high-waisted short shorts made confident strides toward the sink as Reagan took a brush to her nails. Imani hopped onto the nearest clean worktable and crossed one leg over the other. “You’re so stubborn.”
Reagan smirked. “I’ve been called worse. And don’t worry, I have a plan that doesn’t involve charging the members of my community for something they deserve for
free.” She didn’t need to look up from the sink to know Imani was rolling her eyes. “One day your face is going to freeze like that,” she warned.
Imani laughed too loudly to be sincere. “Okay, Grandma.
Anyway. . .” She waved her away. “Does this plan of yours have anything to do with this very serious relationship with a stranger you’re in all of a sudden?”
Reagan took her time drying her hands and dusting o her overalls before replying. Tossing the towel onto the table before leaning against it and crossing her arms, Reagan looked at her for a long time before speaking.
“So,” she began with a grin, “you drove all the way from Ft. Lauderdale to satisfy your curiosity? And on your day o no less.” She laughed before shaking her head. “I’ve never known you to be so nosey.”