But why not?I walked right up the steps and into Gramma's house. She was sitting there with a glass of chardonnay, a bit uncharacteristic. She usually...didn't drink until after five."Hi, Gramma," I said, suddenly feeling like a child."Hello, Judy," Lane said."Hello to the two of you," she said. "It IS the two of you, am I right?" Yes, Gramma," I said. "Lane and I. We're a couple. A pair." I don't know what broke inside me, but I felt myself blurting "We wanna get married."Lane looked. I looked her straight in the eyes. 'I'm not a teenager any more, mum. I'm over 30. I swear. I drink. I fuck,' spat out, for maximum effect, 'who I like. And I dress how I like.' Delivered with the same forthrightness and vehemence that I used when I was a teenager facing a leathering.Her voice was low and even; controlled. Always a bad sign. 'You're still my daughter, Victoria, no matter how old you are.' Victoria was my first name, which I had hated when I was a teenager, so had decided to. More

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