Page 106 of Matchmaking On The Menu

“There’s always a test.”

Before I can respond, a soft, amused sound comes from behind her.

“Don’t mind her. She likes to pretend she’s intimidating.”

I glance past her and, yeah. That must be the grandmother.

She’s settled into a booth, a cup of coffee in front of her, hands wrapped around it like she’s got nowhere else to be, a plate of untouched fries sitting in front of her like she got distracted as soon as her food arrived. Her gaze lands on me when I look up. It’s warm, but there’s something sharp under it too, something that feels… calculated.

Different. Dannica’s mother looked at me like she was taking notes. This feels more like the woman already has the answer and is waiting to see if I’ll match it.

“Come sit,” she says.

Not really an invitation. I go. The seat across from her is still warm when I slide in, like she knew I would. She studies me for a second, not hiding it, then takes a slow sip of her coffee.

“So,” she says, setting the cup down. “You’re the one.”

There’s no accusation in it. No pressure. Just certainty.

I huff out a breath before I can stop it. “That depends on the question.”

Her mouth curves, just slightly. “Good answer.”

She doesn’t fire questions at me. Doesn’t push. She just… nudges.

A comment here. A pause there. Enough space for me to fill if I want to. And I do. More than I should.

Her smile comes and goes like she’s catching things I’m not saying out loud, filing them away for later. It should feel uncomfortable. It doesn’t. I like it. I like her.

“You’re different,” she says at one point, stirring her coffee absently.

“From?” I ask, curious.

“The people who usually come through here thinking they’re better than the town.”

I lean back slightly, mulling that over. “I don’t think I’m better than anything right now.”

She hums, as if that confirms something for her.

“Good,” she says. “You’ll fit just fine then. I’m Mildred, but you can call me Grandma like everyone else does around here.”

I laugh softly at that, shaking my head. “That feels like a lot of responsibility.”

“It is,” she says easily. “People start calling you family around here, and suddenly they expect you to help move furniture.”

“I can see that. I helped Beverly McNaire with a tire change, and she wanted to set me up with her daughter.”

She watches me over the rim of her coffee cup. “You’d be wise to stay away from that one. Nasty piece of work.”

“Thanks for the advice.”

“So what exactly are your intentions with my granddaughter?”

Well. There it is. I choke on absolutely nothing. Mildred doesn’t blink. Behind the counter, Dannica’s mother snorts into a dish towel.

“I think he’s still recovering from the question,” she says dryly.

“I’m gathering information,” Mildred replies calmly.