“No,” the woman denied. “I’m letting myself go in here. The hip surgery slowed me down, and I haven’t even gotten my nails done.” She stretched out her fingers to reveal nails with just a few specks of polish left on them.

“I’d be happy to do your nails,” Angi said, tracing a thumb over Iris’s nails. “What’s your favorite color?”

“I’d like red for Christmas.”

“I’ll be here tomorrow at this time.”

“Thank you, dear.” Iris squeezed Angi’s hand. “Have you met my grandson, Gabe? He’s a good boy and quite handsome. The two of you would make a lovely couple. He needs a nice girl in his life. Needs to smile more.”

“I smile plenty.”

Angi startled at Gabe’s deep voice. She started to turn, but he stepped in front of her. “See me smiling,” he said to his grandmother, then offered a maniacal-looking leer.

“That’s terrifying,” Angi muttered, earning a chuckle from Iris.

“Hello, my sweet boy,” she said, and lifted her arms toward Gabe. Without hesitation, he bent and kissed her forehead as she gave him a gentle hug. “Have you met Bianca?” Iris asked when he pulled back. She frowned and turned to Angi. “No, that’s not right.”

Angi’s heart tightened at Iris’s obvious distress. It must be so difficult to lose track of the details. To still be lucid enough to recognize the loss but not to do anything about it.

“I’m Angi.” She pointed to the dance floor. “Bianca is my mom, the one currently dancing with abandon.” Her mother looked over and gave a little wave, then beckoned Angi to join the class.

“Do you dance?” Iris asked.

“Not like that.” Angi shook her head. “I never learned anything beyond the Electric Slide.”

“Gabe is a wonderful dancer.” Iris beamed at him. “I taught him back when he was just a little squirt. He stepped on my toes something awful at the start, but he learned. Do you remember, Gaby? Those nights dancing to Tony Bennett.”

His smile softened into something so sincere and genuinely sweet it took Angi’s breath away. “You always were a fan of Tony. It’s a good thing Grandad found you first.”

How could this sweet man be the same crusty man who blew hot and cold so fast Angi felt like she had both frostbite and third-degree burns in response? Would Andrew someday be that dedicated to his grandmother or even to his mother? Angi could only hope.

“Your grandad was the only man I had eyes for,” Iris said, none of the uncertainty of earlier in her voice. “He did basic training down in South Carolina, and we met when he and some friends came up to the Outer Banks. In his uniform, he was the most handsome soldier I’d ever seen. My grandson is his spitting image.” She leaned into Angi and whispered in a voice that wasn’t a whisper, “Gabe is a handsome devil, don’t you think?”

Angi wondered if the older woman remembered making almost that exact comment minutes ago. How often did Iris circle back through a conversation, loops on repeat?