"Daisy, is it true?" I heard a very southern accent call from behind us, very loud, like they knew she was here already and shouted it before seeing for themselves. Of course we all know what, or rather, who they were talking about.
"Yes Vi, come look." Grandma Daisy, as she told us to call her, stood up and moved around the small couch we moved to and met another woman, around the same age at the door. She was a little bit skinnier, seeming to be relieved as soon as she saw Daisy. They both hugged tight and I saw the other woman look over Daisy's shoulder at us and I just waited rubbing Mark's hand that rested on my belly and hip.
"Oh my." She said and covered her mouth. Was that an older lady thing? Covering their mouths when they are shocked, happy, or sad? Our aunts and uncle hadn't
