Kitty broke first and headbutted Naomi in the legs in a bid for affection. Waylon, not to be left out, muscled his way in, knocking her off balance. I reached out, but Nash got there first and steadied her.
“Put the disaster dogs out. Let ’em run off the devil for a bit,” Liza J ordered.
Nash let go of Naomi and opened the front door. Three streaks of fur took off.
“Liza J, this is Naomi and her niece, Waylay,” I said. “They’ll be staying at the cottage.”
“They will, will they?”
She didn’t like being told what to do any more than I did. Neither one of us ever understood why Nash had gone all law and order. “Unless of course you want to throw them out on the street,” I added.
“I remembered where I know you from,” my grandmother announced, peering at Waylay through her bifocals. “Been buggin’ me since I dropped off the bikes. You fixed my iPad at the library.”
“You did?” Naomi asked the girl.
Waylay shrugged, looking embarrassed. “I go in there sometimes. And sometimes old folks have me fix stuff.”
“And you look like that one’s trouble-making mother.” Liza J pointed at Naomi.
“That would be my sister,” she said, smiling weakly.
“Twins,” I interjected.
Naomi held out the bouquet. “We brought you flowers and cookies to thank you for inviting us to dinner.”
“Flowers, cookies, and two bleeding men,” Liza J observed. “Might as well come on back. Dinner’s about done.”
“About done” in Liza J’s house meant she hadn’t started it yet.
We trooped into the kitchen, where all the fixings for sloppy joes and salad awaited.
“Meat,” I called.
“Salad,” Nash conceded.
“Not before you both clean yourselves up,” Liza J said, pointing to the kitchen sink.
Nash did as he was told and turned on the water. I headed to the fridge and cracked open a beer first.
“Got some treats from the bakery today,” Liza J said. She looked at Waylay, who was eyeing the salad ingredients with suspicion. “Why don’t you put ’em on a plate with whatever cookies my grandsons didn’t eat and maybe taste a couple to make sure they’re fit for eatin’.”
“Cool,” Waylay said, making a beeline for the bakery box on the counter.
I peered over the kid’s shoulder and helped myself to a lemon cookie. My favorite.
“I’ll get the wine,” Liza J said. “You look like you know your way around a wine opener.”
She was addressing Naomi, who looked like she couldn’t decide if it was a compliment or a judgment.
“Go on,” I told her when Liza J headed out of the room.
She took a step closer, and I caught the scent of lavender. “Do not under any circumstances start another fight in front of my niece,” she hissed.
“Can’t promise anything.”
If eyes could shoot actual fire, I would have had a need to regrow my eyebrows.
“Chief, I trust you can keep the order for a few minutes,” she said.