The moment I open the door for them, two white haired cunning foxes beam at me and Leilani.
"There's my baby," Grandma Maria pulls me into a hug, taking me by surprise. Her cologne immediately masks us in a tiny world of our own. "Aww, how tough it must have been for you to be separated from your lover at such a young age. You should have told your Grandma about it sooner," she adds, stroking my hair.
Gossip. Gossip. Gossip. It's one of the things that don't change just because of class, race, or status—a mark of humanity in all of us. I can't believe Leilani's story about us dating has already reached her grandma this fast. Not that I'm complaining. This is yet another reason to act like her man without her constantly questioning my behavior.
