Joan nodded. “I assumed you knew all this. She wrote that she was referred by Kitty Harrington in her cover letter, which was included with the resumé I gave you.”
I hadn’t bothered to read the cover letters. They were usually bullshit, just a place to drop annoying buzzwords. “I must’ve missed that.”
“Oh. Well, I apologize. I should have pointed it out before you started the interviews.”
I shook my head. “It’s fine. My fault. Have a good night, Joan.”
? ? ?
Later that evening, I decided to give my grandmother a call. It was almost nine by the time I got home, but she was a night owl. Besides, I was overdue, which I was certain she’d remind me of. So I poured two fingers of whiskey and picked up my cell.
“Well, well, well…” she said when she answered. “I was beginning to think I was going to have to get on a plane and open a can of whoop ass on you.”
I smiled. That didn’t take long. “Sorry, Grams. It’s been too long. Work’s been really busy.”
“Ah, that’s horseshit and you know it.”
I chuckled. “How are you?”
“Probably about the same as you, only better.”
I really missed this woman. “I’m sure you are. What’s new? You still dating that guy, Charles?”
“Oh honey, it really has been a while. Charles got the boot at least two months ago. I’ve moved on to Marvin.”
“What happened with Charles?”
“He ate dinner at four o’clock, wore house slippers out of the house as shoes, and didn’t like to travel. I’m seventy-eight years old. I don’t have time for that boring stuff. Did I tell you we’re related to Ava Gardner?”
“Ava Gardner was an actress, right?”
“A damn good one, too. She always had these big, full lips. It’s probably where you got that pouty mouth of yours.”
My forehead wrinkled. Grams was already halfway down the road, and I was still stuck at the intersection. “How does Ava Gardner relate to Charles?”
“She doesn’t. Ava is one of my new finds on Ancestry.”
“Oh…” I’d almost forgotten about my grandmother’s hobby. Over the last two years, she’d charted over six-thousand connections on Ancestry. Every week, she Zoomed with whatever new distant relatives were willing to talk to her. Some she even met in person. The woman had never sat still a day in her life. Hell, she’d only retired five years ago from the domestic violence shelter she’d founded, and she still went back to volunteer once a week.
“So how are we related to Ava?” I asked.
“My father’s great grandfather—so that would be my great-great grandfather—was first cousins with her great grandmother.”
“That branch is pretty far up the tree for my lips to come from her.”
“We have strong genes. Lord knows your stubbornness runs at least five generations back.”
I was pretty sure the woman on the phone had enough of that for five more lineage lines.
“What’ve you been up to lately, besides not calling to see if I’m dead?” she asked. “Still blowing through models instead of looking for the mother of my great grandchildren? I’m not getting any younger, you know. It would be nice if you could get started sooner, rather than later.”
“I’m busy running my business, Grams.”
“Bullshit. Life gave you some lemons. Stop sucking on ’em and make some lemonade. Then go find a girl with vodka.”