Page 19 of The Close-Up
“I get it. My family is the same way.”
Just then Simon’s grandma pops into view. Behind her thick-rimmed glasses are those same golden brown eyes that radiate softness. She grips the frame of her glasses between her left index finger and thumb, squints at me, then grins.
“Well, have a look at you. So pretty! I’m Miriam.”
“Thank you, Miriam. You’re lovely, by the way. You and Barbara both. I can see where Simon gets his eyes and hair.”
“Oh, stop!” they say in unison.
Miriam runs her hand over her shoulder-length gray-brown waves. “You should come by the house some time. Simon, bring her by for dinner one of these nights. I make the best homemade ravioli you’ll ever have. You can even film it for the show!”
I pivot my gaze to Simon. “Ravioli’s my favorite.” He shakes his head, laughing.
Barbara cuts back into frame. “I just have to say, Naomi. I love the series you’re doing about our Simon. It’s so fun to see him in those videos.” She darts her eyes to Simon. “If only your dad could have taken a class like yours back in the day.”
“Okay, Mom, Grandma, we’d better get going. Nice to talk to you both.”
They exchange I-love-yous and we tell them good-bye.
Simon hangs up and shoves the phone in the pocket of his gym shorts.
“Sorry about that.” There’s the slightest gleam of self-consciousness in his eyes when he speaks. “I love them, but they can be a little over the top.”
“Don’t even worry about it, Peanut.”
His expression turns full-on playful. “Ha. That’s the first and last time you call me that. That embarrassing nickname is for my grandma’s use only.”
“Why does she call you that?”
“Apparently when I was a baby, I was bald for a while and looked like a giant chunky peanut.”
I press my hand to my heart. “Oh my god. That might be the cutest thing I’ve ever heard. But seriously, your mom and grandma are so sweet. And relatively low-key compared to how my family gets every time I’ve brought someone new around.”
“How so?”
“Well, for starters, everyone expects a hug. They’d probably fawn over you because you’re tall and handsome. They’d ask you a million questions about your work and family. One of my cousins would make you do a karaoke duet with them. They’d force-feed you food until you burst. And that’s just my mom’s side.”
A dazed look flashes across his face. “Wow. I don’t know if I’d survive.”
“Oh you would. They’d want you to come back for every family gathering ever, so they need you alive.”
As we both laugh, a sense of comfort settles over me. Despite the few awkward moments Simon and I have shared at Lake Tahoe, being around him feels so natural. And easy. He’s a blast to chat with, whether we’re working together or just hanging out—the kind of person I can imagine being fast friends with.
I climb out of the car and head toward the bakery, which is at the end of the block.
Simon squints at the sign bearing the name Lorelai’s above a tiny brick storefront. “Let’s see if these egg tarts live up to the hype.”
“Oh, they will.”
“So confident.”
“Just wait until you taste them.”
Chapter Five
Simon pulls into a parking spot downtown in front of the bakery we’ve hit up almost every morning since I took him here a handful of days ago.
“When are you going to just finally admit it?” I tease as we climb out of the car.
