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something more clever. She offered a hand, and because she was still dazed, and Cecil’s feelings were so close to the surface, she had a quick and blurred image of just what had made her grandmother giggle behind the bedroom door.
    She shut it off fast as her eyes met Cecil’s with mutual mortification. “You’re … you’re a plumber, Mr. Axton?”
    “He came to fix my water heater,” Iris put in, “and’s been keeping me warm ever since.”
    “Iris.” Cecil ducked his head, hunched the twin mountains of his shoulders, but couldn’t quite hide the grin. “I gotta get on. Hope you enjoy your visit, Tory.”
    “Don’t you think about running off without kissing me good-bye.” To solve the matter, Iris crossed to him, took his weathered face between her hands to pull it down to her level, and kissed him firm on the mouth. “There now, lightning did not strike, thunder did not roll, and the child here did not collapse in shock.” She kissed him again, then patted his cheek. “You go on, handsome, and have a good day.”
    “I guess I’ll, um, see you later on.”
    “You’d better. We decided on this, Cecil. Now, you scat. I’ll talk to Tory.”
    “I’m going.” With a hesitant smile, he turned to Tory. “You can argue with this woman, but it just gives you a headache.” He took a faded blue gimme cap from a kitchen peg, set it on his wiry hair, and hurried out.
    “Isn’t he the cutest thing? I got some nice lean bacon here. How do you want your eggs?”
    “In chocolate chip cookies. Gran.” Tory drew a careful breath and rose. “It’s absolutely none of my business, but…”
    “Of course it’s not your business, unless I invite you into it, which I have.” Iris laid bacon in the old black spider skillet to sizzle. “I’m going to be very disappointed in you, Tory, if you’re shocked and appalled by the idea of your grandmother having a sex life.”
    Tory winced, but managed to compose her face when Iris turned toward her. “Not shocked, not appalled, but certainly a little disconcerted. The idea of coming here this morning and nearly walking in on … hmmm.”
    “Well, you were early, honey-pot. I’m going to fry these eggs, and we’re both going to indulge in a nice, greasy midmorning breakfast.”
    “I guess you worked up an appetite.”
    Iris blinked, then threw back her head and laughed. “Now, that’s my girl. You worry me, sugar plum, when you don’t smile.”
    “What have I got to smile about? You’re the one having sex.”
    Amused, Iris cocked her head. “And whose fault is that?”
    “Yours. You saw Cecil first.” Tory got down two glasses, poured the tea. How many women, she wondered, could claim a grandmother who had hot affairs with the plumber? She wasn’t sure whether she should be proud or amused, and decided the combination of both suited the situation. “He seems like a very nice man.”
    “He is. Better, he’s a very good man.” Iris poked at the bacon and decided to get it done all at once. “Tory, he’s living here.”
    “Living? You’re living with him?”
    “He wants to get married, but I’m not sure that’s what I want. So I’m taking him for what you might call a test drive.”
    “I think I’ll just sit down after all. Jesus, Gran. Have you told Mama?”
    “No, and I don’t intend to as I can live without the lecture on living in sin and perdition and God’s almighty plan. Your mama is the biggest pain in the butt since self-service gas stations. How any daughter of mine turned out to be such a mouse of a woman is beyond me.”
    “Survival,” Tory murmured, but Iris only snarled.
    “She’d’ve survived just fine if she’d walked out on that son of a bitch she married twenty-five years ago, or any day since. That’s her choice, Tory. If she had any gumption, she’d have made a different one. You did.”
    “Did I? I don’t know what choices I made or which were made for me. I don’t know which were right and which were wrong.