“Miss Leona is seriously the best. Cool as hell, especially for eighty-two, but Sam is right. She’s old-school. Just keep that in mind.”
“Got it.”
Evie opened the door and let Euca run in ahead of them. As they stepped inside Amanda followed Evie’s lead and took off her Converse as Evie toed out of an extremely expensive-looking pair of boots. The entryway had the same style as the entryway of Jesse’s house, but this was on a grander scale. A foyer, if you will. Amanda took in the archways and the Spanish tile and she glanced down the hallways that seemingly led to different wings of the house. Off to the right she could hear some Luther Vandross playing.
“Come on this way,” Evie said with a bright smile. Amanda let out a deep breath and followed her down the hallway. They stepped into an enormous kitchen, where thee Leona Lovell was swaying in front of a six-burner Viking range singing along to “Never Too Much.” Sam’s cousin Lilah was sitting at the island with her laptop, wiggling her shoulders along to the beat. She looked up and smiled like she was about to say hello when Evie cut her off.
“Miss Leona! I told you I was cooking!”
The elderly woman didn’t even flip her beach-waved blond bob wig in their direction when she replied. “Baby girl, I know you are not yelling at me in my own house. In my own kitchen.” She turned to them then, checking in the most hilariously sweet way if Evie had decided to change her tone. Right on cue, Evie’s shoulders dropped and she tried again.
“Good morning, Miss Leona. You look so lovely today.”
“Much better. Come give me a kiss.” Evie did what she was told, crossing the beautiful tile floor before kissing the elderly woman on her cheek.
“I thought I was cooking today. When I suggested a family brunch I didn’t mean for you to lift a finger.”
“It’s my fault,” Lilah spoke up. “I mentioned this lemon blueberry crepe tart recipe and before I could stop her, she was gliding outside to get some eggs.”
“Glide I did, Miss Lilah,” she said, as she swayed a little more, the fabric of her seafoam green tunic swirling around her hips. Amanda wasn’t sure what she expected, but she definitely didn’t expect Miss Leona Lovell to be so light and fun.
“Did you just get off a horse?” she asked Evie suddenly.
“Yes, ma’am, I did and I am going to shower right now.”
“Good. Now who is this?” She waved her spatula in Amanda’s direction. She instantly felt her cheeks warm. Please let this woman like me, she thought.
“Geez, I’m so sorry. Miss Leona, this is Sam’s friend Amanda. She’s visiting the ranch for the weekend. I thought she could join us since we have enough to feed Jesse—”
“Oh, we have enough to feed a small city. Of course you can join us for brunch.” She looked over at Amanda before she focused back on the crepe slowly browning in the pan. “We met last week at that lovely wedding.”
“Briefly, ma’am. Yes. Yes we did.”
“And she watched the worst movie ever with us last night,” Lilah added with that same kind smile she’d greeted her with. Amanda already liked her.
“Well, it’s nice to see you again. Yvonne, where are my grandsons?”
“They are over at Zach’s, showering. Which I am going to do right now. I’ll be back in a minute . . . to help you finish preparing this delicious meal.” Evie winked at Amanda, then ducked back down the hallway. Amanda knew she was in perfectly good hands, but that didn’t help her back away from the edge of a possible freak-out. She was in Leona Lovell’s kitchen. In her actual home. How was she supposed to handle that? She realized there was only one thing to do. Get the freak-out out of her system.
“Um, I hope this isn’t too much, but I am a huge fan of your work. My mother is even a bigger fan. I had a horrible case of the flu in fifth grade and she let me watch Glory in the Night and just—”
Miss Leona glanced over at her. Just the corner of her lip tipped up in the slightest grin, trapping Amanda’s voice in her throat. She was not going to cry in the middle of this woman’s kitchen. Miss Leona carefully slid the finished crepe on top of the small stack she’d started, then set the pan back on the stove. She turned toward Amanda and, as if in the most magical slow motion, held open her arms. With a gracious flick of her wrists and careful nod of “get your ass over here,” she beckoned Amanda into her warm embrace.
“This is like being hugged by Jesus,” Amanda whispered. “This is the hug I’ve been dreaming of my whole life.”
“I find the hugs help calm the excitement,” Miss Leona replied, her voice light and causal. Like she might in fact be our Lord God herself. Amanda soaked in her grandmotherly love just long enough for it to seep into her heart. She took in her light floral perfume and the softness of her flowing top. Who made thousand-thread-count tops? She logged it all deep within her mind so she could conjure it up in her darkest moment. When things got really bad, she usually turned to her mom, but from now on, she’d think of the time Leona Lovell took pity on her and gave her the best hug in the history of hugs.
She took the hint when Miss Leona started to release her and stepped back out of the elderly woman’s personal space.
“Isn’t that better?”
“Much. I still might ask you for an autograph for my mom before I leave. If that’s not too much. I know I am being rude. I am so sorry.”
Miss Leona patted her hand. “Oh, you’re fine, baby. We’ll make sure you get that autograph
