Richard showed me a few photos of her, but in person, she’s even warmer than I expected. She’s bosomy with soft arms. Her face is freckled with age spots, brightened with coral blush and lipstick. The cheerful palette is distinct on her pale skin. This is Vanessa’s mom? The only resemblance is in their blue eyes. Grammy’s have faded, but the color is there, linking them across generations. “My, my,” she says. “You came all this way?” “Grammy! Of course.” “Welcome home.” She waves me into a hug that smells like over-perfume.
Devon never met her before, but Grammy acts like she knows Devon.
