Somewhere in the house, a tiny dog seemed to be working itself into a frenzy the minute the doorbell rang, but was shushed as Nana's mother opened the door. She was a tiny, middle-aged woman with graying hair and thick glasses on, and had a rather... Severe look to her. She eyed him carefully for a moment.
"Hello," she said, not really sure what to make of him, until she saw the bag in his hand. "Oh, are you here for my daughter?" she asked. She still seemed slightly wary, but had relaxed a bit and opened the door wider. A teacup Yorkshire terrier peeked around her ankles to see who the visitor was.