Nana D hung up the phone. She still had an old-fashioned, buttercup-yellow handset with a curly cord installed next to the refrigerator. I always loved thinking about her standing in the kitchen, twirling it as we chatted on the phone while I was home in Los Angeles. She had cordless extensions in other parts of the home and her cell phone, but she preferred her kitchen have a touch of the past.
“Welcome back, my brilliant grandson. I was just on the phone with your mother. She"s gone off the deep end again.” Nana D rambled while brewing the tea. “Glad to see you can still read a clock.”
“Of course. You didn"t think I"d be late, did you? What"s Mom"s problem?”
“Oh, a little of this and that. That daughter of mine never could handle stress.” Nana D uncovered a plate of desserts sitting o
