Tiffany stood and stared down at me. With a puzzled voice, she asked Mrs. Oliver, “What’s he doing here?”
Mrs. Oliver grabbed Tiffany’s hand and led her over to the table. “He’s staying with me for a few days,” she informed her. “Now, sit down, Sammy.”
She pulled her hand away. “Nana,” she muttered angrily. “Don’t call me Sammy. I’m Tiffany.”
Mrs. Oliver looked nervously at me. I don’t think she knew what to do. She didn’t know that I was aware of Tiffany’s gender identity, and she probably t