“Among other things,” Anica replied diplomatically. “Thank you so much for dinner, Vivian. It was truly a pleasure.”
“The pleasure was all mine, dear,” Gram said, rising to hug Anica again. “You must come back soon. Next time I’ll show you the videos of Callan’s brief but memorable stint in the school production of ‘Grease.’ His Danny Zuko was... something.”
“That’s our cue to leave,” I said hastily, guiding Anica toward the door. “Good night, Gram. Love you.”
“Love you too, darling,” Gram replied, then added with a wink to Anica, “He was a terrible Danny Zuko. No rhythm whatsoever. But very enthusiastic. Much like his approach to most things, I imagine.”
“I’m never bringing anyone to meet you again,” I informed her as I kissed her cheek goodbye.
“We’ll see. Drive safely, darlings.”
We stepped out into the cool night air, making our way down the cobblestone path to where Anica had parked her car in the circular driveway.
“I should apologize for Gram,” I said finally, reaching to open Anica’s car door for her. “She can be a bit... much.”
“Don’t apologize,” Anica replied, turning to face me instead of getting in. “She’s wonderful. Nothing like I expected.”
“What did you expect?”
“I don’t know. Someone more... formal? Reserved? Less likely to show me bathtub merman photos within twenty minutes of meeting me?”
I groaned, leaning against the side of her car. “God, the merman photo. I’ve been trying to destroy that thing for years.”
“It’s adorable,” she said with a small smile. “You were a cute kid.”
“I was a disaster,” I corrected. “As Gram thoroughly documented.”
“A creative disaster,” she amended. “The merman tail was genuinely impressive engineering for a six-year-old.”
“One of my first entrepreneurial ventures,” I agreed. “Though the garbage bag market proved less lucrative than tech. Turns out you can make billions with code, but crafting merman tails remains a niche market at best.”
She giggled. I liked making Anica laugh. It felt like an achievement, like closing a particularly difficult deal or perfecting a complex recipe.
“She loves you very much,” Anica said after a moment.
“She’s the only person who’s ever seen me,” I replied without thinking. “Really seen me.”
“What do you mean?”
I considered deflecting with a joke but wanted to give her an honest answer. The porch light from Gram’s house illuminated half her face, leaving the rest in shadow. “Most people see what they want to see. The billionaire, the playboy, the tech genius. Whatever narrative works for them. Gram just sees... me. The good, the bad, and the embarrassing.”
“That must be nice,” Anica said, her voice soft. “Being seen.”
“It’s terrifying,” I admitted. “But yes, nice too. Though I could do without the merman photos being part of the ‘seeing me’ package.”
“The merman photos are essential to the full Callan Burkhardt experience,” she teased. “Now I understand why you’re so successful. You’ve been compensating for the garbage bag tail all these years.”
“Maybe,” I laughed. “Though I’ll have you know that in certain circles, my merman phase is considered visionary. I was cosplaying before it was cool.”
We lapsed into a comfortable silence. Crickets chirped in the garden, and somewhere in the distance, an owl called. “Thank you for coming tonight. For not treating her like a client obligation. I think she gets lonely in this big house, more than she’d ever admit.”
“I enjoyed myself,” she said, and I could tell she meant it. “Your grandmother is a force of nature.”
“That’s putting it mildly.”
Our eyes met, and for a moment, neither of us moved. There was something in her gaze. A question, perhaps, or a possibility. My hand reached for hers almost without my permission, our fingers brushing lightly where they rested on the edge of the car door.
The contact seemed to break whatever spell had fallen over us. She pulled her hand away, reaching for her keys.
