“Gran, can I have a friend over tomorrow?”

“Of course you can, doll. Is it Tiffany?”

Bennett presses her lips together for a moment. “No.”

Gran doesn’t say anything as she dunks a chicken leg into a bowl of flour and spices. Bennett’s stomach rumbles and she wanders over to have a look. 

Gran lays the chicken leg down in  her giant iron pan, which is full of sizzling oil. She does it so carefully that not a single splash escapes and then wipes her hands on her yellow apron before turning to smile down at Bennett.

“This is your house, doll. You can invite your friends anytime. Any friend of yours is a friend of mine.” She gives Bennett the wink and turns to poke the potatoes boiling away in a pot on the back burn...

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