Page 68 of When the Angel Falls First

Nana Geraldine, clad in bright-purple leggings and a sweatband around her forehead, was front and center. She kicked high for her age, bent low, and twirled, her arms windmilling wildly in the air. She was both graceful and unpredictable, with facial expressions that belonged on a commercial for a cruise ship.

Behind her, the ladies mimicked her moves with varying levels of success. One particularly enthusiastic lady, wearing oversized sunglasses, did almost a full split, though her friend yanked her back up.

As the music hit the final chord, the group struck a pose, hands on hips, elbows out, in full diva stance. I could now attest that a crowd of eighty-year-old-plus ladies in Lycra was far less frightening than I would have imagined.

Nana scuttled right over to me, grinning widely. “Do we know how to make an entrance or what!”

Next thing I knew, Nana Geraldine and her dancercise troop stormed the Bookish Cat like a pack of lively flamingos. The silence of my bookshop was shattered by their energetic chatter, interspersed with the occasional whoop.

They flocked toward the romance section, huddling close around the shelves.

“Here’s what we’re looking for, girls!” one of the ladies shouted.

Oh, my word. Steamy Highlander romance, of all things?

I could feel the blush creeping up my neck as Nana Geraldine held up one of the books, its cover flaunting a bare-chested hunk with flowing hair.

“Look at this one, ladies!” she squealed, pointing at the book. “Those biceps could crack walnuts!”

“Good gracious!” One of the ladies gasped, running to check it out.

I had to hide my eyes, suddenly feeling like I was an embarrassed teenager who just caught her parents making out.

“Don’t mind us, dear,” Nana patted me on the shoulder. “Just a bunch of old ladies having a bit of fun. Carry on with whatever you were doing and pretend we’re not even here.”

The ladies chattered among themselves, and as much as I tried to turn my attention to online order forms, it just wasn’t possible. The women fawned over the bodice-ripping tales, giggling and whispering.

“Oh, Betty, look at this one!” Nana Geraldine held up abook with a Highlander in a kilt, his chest gleaming under the painted sunlight. “Isn’t he a handsome brute?”

Betty, a petite woman with hair as white as snow, squinted at the book before she gave a sharp nod. “Handsome, yes, but nothing compared to the hunk onA Highlander’s Promise. Nowthat’sa man.”

“Nana,” I half-whispered, “what’s the deal with the enthusiasm for Highlanders?”

“It’s the kilts,” she quipped. “So much… mystery.”

Another round of laughter burst from the shelves, louder this time. Nana Geraldine looked at me, a gleam in her eye. “So, dear, do you have a favorite?”

“Highlander?”

“Uh-huh.”

My face grew hot, but I took the teasing in stride. “I can’t say I have a favorite, Nana. I… appreciate all the… erm, covers.”

Nana Geraldine winked at me. “That’s my girl!”

I shook my head, smiling despite my mortification. The giggling group of dancercising, steamy Highlander-loving ladies had turned my bookstore into a lively mess, and I didn’t mind it one bit.

As the women continued on, Nana laid a soft, wrinkled hand on my arm and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You know, my girl,” she said, her voice soft and full of warmth, “I’m proud of you. Proud of you for taking a dream and turning it into this… this wonder.”

“Thank you, Nana.” My voice broke. I knew she was proud, but it meant a lot to hear her say it, and most of all I was grateful that the woman who had been my cheerleader my whole life was still there to see it. “You know a lot of it is thanks to you.”

“Let’s not battle with feelings now, sweetie pie.” Shewinked. “You have other joyful topics, like your own Highlander romance.” She must have seen the question on my face because she added, “You know, that tall, handsome drink of holy water.”

“Nana!”

“What? It’s not blasphemy if it’s true.” She huddled up close. “It can’t be easy for you to wrap your head around what he is. Wrapping your arms, however?—”

“Nana, I am not going there with you.”

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