Page 93 of Cruel Offer
"Nana,you still have your Christmas tree up."
Unwinding the scarf from my neck, I loop it over my arm and slip off my gloves. Nana's room smells like cinnamon and oranges and Earl Grey tea.
"Yes, it is."
"But it's March now."
She sets down her crochet hooks and fixes me with a sharp gaze. "Piper, I'm old. I get to do what I want. Besides, it’s a fake tree. It’s not like it’s dropping needles."
She’s got a point. I look around and notice that the furniture has been rearranged and that she has different curtains. Strange. When I was here last month, everything was the same old same old.
"You redecorated, too."
"I was getting bored. Your mother helped me out."
"Well, I like what you've done with the place. And it smells great in here."
There's a twinkle in her eyes when she looks at me. "Oh, you like that? Mr. Brown from the third floor gave mea holiday gift. I just never opened it until now. It's one of those wax melt burners. You just plug it in, put a little cube of wax in it, and it makes the whole room smell."
“Mr. Brown, eh?” I sit next to her and give her a gentle nudge. "Nana! Is there something you're not telling me?"
She resumes her crocheting." I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Come on. Who is Mr. Brown? Is he cute?"
The clack, clack, clack of her needles fills the air. Finally, she sets them down again and turns to fully face me. "Mr. Brown is a widower. He used to own a real estate development company in Montauk, which his grandsons now operate. He did quite well for himself back in the day, as you can imagine. He’s traveled far and wide and he’s had lots of hobbies, including cooking and fine dining. Now he spends his time learning to play the ukelele and apparently buying gifts for his neighbors.”
I smile. "That's nice of him. He sounds very interesting."
Nana nods. "He is. He likes to visit and have tea with me sometimes. And of course it would be rude not to display the gift he gave when he comes to see me."
I feel like there's more to the story than she’s letting on, but she abruptly stops speaking and resumes her crochet again. I don't press, but I have a sneaking suspicion Mr. Brown might be a bit more than a sometimes-visitor. Why are all of the women in my life moving on except for me?
I go to the kitchenette and pour some tea for us both. I stop to smell the wax burner and look at some of the ornaments hanging on the tree. The majority of them are little things I made during my elementary school years. A littlesled made out of popsicle sticks and snowflake-shaped ornaments cut from craft paper and decorated with glitter. It’s touching that she still displays them when she could be decking her halls with her gold-plated Franklin Mint ornaments or her vintage glass baubles from Loehmann’s.
I set her tea on the table beside her.
"Would you fetch us a box of cookies, too? They’re sitting on the counter."
I go get the shortbread cookies and she looks pleased.
"There, now we can have a proper tea."
Once I serve each of us a couple of cookies, I sit back to watch her work. She's making a scarf in shades of blue and brown, and I wonder if it's for a certain gentleman.
"Have you made Mr. Brown a scarf, Nana?"
I notice how beautifully her white hair is styled today. Maybe he's visiting later.
"No, I haven't. I have several other neighbors to make scarves for first.”
While I sip my tea, I quietly muse to myself that my Nana has a love interest that she's trying very hard to hide from me.
"Enough meddling in my personal affairs, Pip. It's time for me to meddle in yours. How are things going with your nice young man?"
I immediately go on my guard, not wanting to explain the details. I’d been quite vague about Nate and my living arrangements, and everything else involving my contract with him. Like my mother, Nana thinks I’ve been staying with Cleo all this time.
"What about him?"
