Page 75 of A Very Naughty Christmas

“Nana,” now there was a touch of irritation in his voice, “what have I told you about matchmaking? I really don’t need help.”

“Is that why it took you a dozen years to patch things up with Dixie?” Emmaline challenged. “Then when you do, you turn right around and muck it up? And you,” her blue eyes zeroed in on her next, “I practically laid the perfect man at your feet, yet you’re either tooblind to see it or too obstinate to let go of the past. He is not your daddy, by any means, or your brother, or any of the bonehead boyfriends you’ve had the bad taste to pick out. And he’s definitely not like that obnoxious Spencer Hicks. I told Kyle the first time I met that little twerp that he was trouble and to steer clear. Did he listen?”

“Yes,” Kyle answered. “After the incident with Dixie I only spoke to him when I had to.”

“Truly?” Dixie asked, twisting her head to peer up at him.

He shot her an impatient look. “I’ve told you I thought he was an asshole.”

“A bit vulgar, dear, but I agree. I know his grandmother, poor thing. Much to her dismay, he never improved with age. He’s become a perpetual student it seems, and she’s always lamenting what a grave disappointment he is.” She shook her head sadly before her focus shifted to her successful grandson. Dixie could almost hear her unfinished statement—unlike Kyle.

“Now, I’m off. Walter…” She took his proffered arm. “Hold onto me tight. I visited my friend Estelle, who slipped on the ice and broke her hip. I don’t want to do the same.”

Dixie hadn’t noticed Walter standing nearby. Had he been by the doors as she’d flown into the lobby? For that matter, had Emmaline and her Rolls?

“Nana, this discussion isn’t over,” Kyle warned.

“Did she call you too?” Dixie asked.

“Someone did. Probably one of her volunteer friends.”

A volunteer… That notion had her turning to Anna Franklin at the volunteer desk who was avidly observing the scene. Caught, she winked and waved at Emmaline, then turned to help someone who walked up. Dixie noticed her fingers—not looking arthritic at all—were flying over her keyboard this time, and the woman didn’t even have on her blasted reading glasses.

“We’ve been scammed by a duo of sneaky senior citizens.”

“Oh, pooh,” Emmaline replied. “You both needed a push.”

“And you, young man,” she added, tilting her chin Kyle’s way. “You sound like your daddy when he’s gearing up for a lecture. The only discussion I’ll be having with you is when and your gal come to thank me for helping you pull your heads out of your collective asses.”

Dixie gasped, thoroughly amazed. The Grande Dame of the south had said pooh and asses!

To Walter, she spoke more softly. “If we don’t go now, dear, we’ll be late for Nadeen. And you know how she gets. I had to shift my appointment to deal with these two, which was kind of her to accommodate with such little notice.”

“Yes, ma’am. An irritated Nadeen with scissors isn’t a sight I relish anytime soon.”

She laughed as she tilted her head and considered him. “You know, Walter, you andshe are of a similar age, and are both single.”

“Miss Emmaline, don’t you dare. That woman scares me, and she’s buried three husbands already.”

“I thought you were made of sterner stuff. Nadeen is still a fine figure of a woman.”

“I got eyes, ma’am, and she can be a fine figure to husband number four or forty-four, but none of them is gonna be me.”

Her laughter drifted to them as she swatted Walter’s arm. “You are too much. If I was only twenty years younger.”

“You’d be seventy and still three years older than me.”

“Seventy is the new fifty, I hear.”

“When ninety becomes the new thirty-five, you call me, old gal.”

Like the best friends they were, they continued their banter until Mrs. G. was tucked into the rear seat and Walter shut the door. As he did his usual rounding of the hood, she gazed out to where she and Kyle now stood under the awning in the December chill. Miss Emmaline waved as the Rolls pulled away, and as it did, the sun broke through the clouds, for the first time in weeks, it seemed.

“She’s incorrigible, Kyle. If any woman needed a reason to get her bottom blistered, it is your Nana. I can’t believe she set us up.”

“Two things. First, don’t mention my Nana’s bottom or any other part of her anatomy in any kind of spanking context or the like.” He shook his head. “No.”

She grinned. “Sorry. What’s the second thing?”

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