I pretended to be cheerful as I approached, but the old woman stopped me before I could reach her rocking chair.

"Girl, I'm not a Cross!" Her tone was sharp. "Atlas, where did you find such a rash girl?"

I immediately interjected, "Am I rash? But I've known for a long time that Atlas's grandmother is surnamed Cross, right, honey?"

"Right, my grandmother is indeed surnamed Cross." Atlas spoke to me in a lovely manner.

I then pretended to look puzzled and glanced at the old woman in the rockin