“Nice guy,” Roxie said.
“He asked me and Sir Charles to go biking around the lake on Sunday afternoon.”
“Really?”
Loren rolled her eyes. “Yes, Mother, I agreed to go.” But Loren was not wearing the leave-it-to-my-mother look. She actually looked interested. Roxie floated up the stairs to her bedroom. Maybe, just maybe, this was the first step to another answered prayer.
Chapter Twelve
You got everyone contacted about the morning UFO group?”
“Yes, sir.” Roxie snapped a smart salute.
“Come on, you don’t have to be sarcastic.”
“Then easy on the orders.” Roxie rolled her eyes and shook her head. Some days MJ was more sergeanty than others. “Just reminding you. This is an all-volunteer organization.”
“What got into you?” MJ jerked to a stop as she did so often, her basset at the end of his leash, tail whipping as he nosed out something. “What did you find now?” She yanked a plastic bag out of her pocket, ready for cleanup. “Oh, no. No, Looper, leave it.” She stooped down and pushed the dog’s nose away. “Looper, leave it.”
“What did he find now?”
“A baby bird. Must have fallen out of the nest.” She looked up into the tree but the new leaves hid a possible nest.
Sir Charles nosed his friend and sat down to wait it out.
“Is it alive?”
“Barely.” She cupped the half-naked little one in her hands. “What can we do?”
“If Loren were home, she’d take it in.” Roxie looked around. “No mother birds dive bombing us. They say leave the babies and let the parents find them and care for them.”
“I don’t think this one will last that long. Doesn’t the mother bird know one of her babies is missing?”
Roxie took off her hat. “Put it in here and we’ll take it with us. Better than a pocket.”
Looper braced his short front legs against MJ’s thigh and yipped his suggestion.
“He thinks it’s his.”
“I know. He’d probably eat the poor thing.”
Roxie nodded. “Bassets are like that. Here, give me Looper’s leash so you can carry the hat.”
They set out again, Roxie with the two leashes. “Never a dull moment.”
“What do you have there?” Anne asked when they came in, MJ cradling the hat.
“A baby bird. Looper found it. Can I have a napkin to wrap it in? At least we can keep it warm.”
“Hey, Paula,” Anne called to a woman seated at a table in the corner, “your daughter takes in orphan animals, doesn’t she? Think she’d take on a not-even-near-fledgling bird?”
“What day is it?”
“Wednesday.”
Paula came over and looked at the nestling. “I hate to tell you but I seriously doubt that baby bird can be saved. She’s in class. I’ll leave her a message.”
“Do you have a box we can nest it in?” MJ asked.
“Do we have boxes? We always have boxes. I’ll get you one.” Anne returned with a small box and a couple of napkins.
MJ took it. “We can put it near the oven to keep it warm.”
Anne rolled her eyes. “The health department does an inspection and we’re toast.”
Paula assured her, “I’m sure Lacey will stop on her way home and pick it up. I’ll bribe her with a latte.”
“The things we do for our friends.” Anne handed Roxie her latte. “Any rolls or…?”
“Cinnamon buns are tomorrow, right?”
“And orange glory on Friday. I could make you cinnamon toast on bread Gary baked last night.”
MJ blew out a puff. “And here I thought I was going to get by with just a latte.” They took their coffee to their usual table under the big painting of a woman wearing a red dress. “So, when you informed people that the morning group is meeting tomorrow, did any say they were coming?”
Roxie nodded. “A few. I didn’t keep track, but enough, I think. Perhaps we should try to at least get it started.”
Anne delivered the cinnamon toast, a serving for each of them. They both inhaled deeply, letting the wonderful aroma caress them.
MJ took a bite and paused, savoring. “I was planning on it. You heard from Amalia?”
“Ginny wants to sleep all the time or at least hide out in bed.”
MJ shrugged. “Can’t say as I blame her, but not healthy after a while.”
“I guess Sam and family come home tomorrow, and he told Amalia that now that school is out, they’ll take over. I think she’d rather go to the daytime group.”
“Mm-hmm.” MJ sipped her latte. “If we both go…”
“I think the little bird is gone.” Anne handed back the box.
“Well, we tried.” Roxie shook her head. “I remember Loren crying for hours when some creature she tried to save would die. Each one had a funeral service and burial in the backyard. She has always been so tenderhearted.”
“Takes after her mother.” MJ said it in a kindly way.
“Hey, did you find yourself working on your project or at least wanting to this week?” Anne finished with another customer and came over to the table. “I see the toast did not last long.”
“How could it? Like eating a memory. My mother used to make cinnamon toast for us,” MJ replied. “Regarding the project I brought—yes, and I put the latch hook rug up on the coffee table in the family room. Anyone who sits on the sofa has to latch hook a few stitches. I have been doing a row every morning while Daryl has the news on.” She half shrugged, her head tipping slightly. “Strange, isn’t it? You, Roxie?”
“Twice. You should come see my new rug in my looks-like-new office. Really brightened it up.”
MJ’s eyebrows went up. “You got it up the stairs all right?”
“Well, the delivery man carried it up. None other than Nate Owens, store manager, and I believe he is interested in Loren. He remembered her from high school and invited her biking Sunday. He is a delightful young man.”
“Well, I’ll be. They’re going biking on Sunday afternoon, eh. We will all pray for good weather.” MJ checked her watch. “Better be getting home. I promised Daryl I’d help him with his kayak. Something about stitching gunwales.”
“And I have a new client who wants to see some houses today, so we are out of here.” Roxie headed out the door.
“What about the bird?” Anne called. “Wait. Never mind, I’ll take care of it.”
“Good luck with your showings,” MJ said at her gate. “You want to bring Sir Charles over while you’re gone? Looper loves to have company.”
“Thanks, maybe I will, although I’m sure all he and Juno do while I am gone is curl up in a sun spot and sleep.” She patted his head. “Come on, big dog, let’s get home.”
* * *
The next morning, three people were already in the room when MJ and Roxie arrived at the UFO meeting place, the senior center. They shared a grin and set their bags down on the table.
“Welcome, everyone.” MJ stepped in to be the greeter. “Glad you could come. There is coffee and tea on the corner table.”
“And I brought cookies,” Maureen’s daughter Josie announced. “Can’t have a meeting without cookies.”
“Hey, I didn’t know that was a law.” Roxie smiled at her. “And knowing you, they are homemade.”
“How embarrassing to bring store-bought.” Josie pulled the lid off her plastic container, releasing cinnamon oatmeal fragrance.
“Are they even cooled yet?”
“Oh, yes, took the last batch out of the oven at eight, so please, everyone, help yourself.”
Roxie set out a Sharpie and a deck of HELLO–MY NAME IS labels. “So, here are name tags, just in case we have people we don’t know.” She saw Maxine, a recently widowed retired schoolteacher. “Maxine, what are you working on and the magic question—when did you start it?”
The unashamedly gray-haired woman held up a variegated rust cable-knit sweater back. “Let’s just
say that the grandson I started this for is now a football player at the high school.”
“And that is size…?”
“Oh, six or so. I’ll find someone to give it to. Thought of unraveling it but the back is finished; this is the front, and the sleeves will go quickly, no cable there.”
“I love that I’m not the only one,” Roxie sighed.
They had one crocheter, halfway through a baby afghan, and a painter who was setting up her easel. “I want to give this to my daughter for a wedding gift in a month so I really need to get on it.”
“Any of you find that our first organizational meeting spurred you to working on your number one after the meeting?”
They all nodded. Roxie turned when she heard the door open. “Ginny.” She leaped to her feet. “Oh, I’m so glad to see you.”
Ginny smiled weakly. “You can blame Amalia. She said I had to get out.”
Right behind her, Amalia looked up toward her hat brim. Her hat today was the straw boater.
“If you are trying to look angelic, it isn’t working.” MJ’s smile nearly burst open her face.
“Oh, well, we are here and we have things to work on so…Is that oatmeal cookies I smell?”Amalia sniffed the air.
“Josie is going to get wealthy bottling that perfume.” Maxine commented. “Ginny, I am so sorry.”
Ginny blinked. “Thank you.” She held up a table runner she had quilted. “Down to the handwork and it’s been waiting since last winter.”
“You going to make napkins to go with that?”
“Years ago, I made napkins for my house for every season. Hand-hemmed them all.” Several groans. “But I took them everywhere—to meetings to work on and avoid talking and volunteering for anything.”
“Did it work?”
“It did. Now I just claim age.” She drew her counted cross-stitch out of the bag. “Found this in a box in a closet. Who knows when I started it.”
“Ginny, I heard you had some plant starts needing a garden.”
Roxie watched her friend struggle. “I did. Let me check when I get home and call you.”
“I know several others who want to come to this group but couldn’t make it this week,” Josie said.
“When I was deciding on which project…” one lady said, “I realized how much yarn I have stashed away. Maybe we could do a yarn swap or something. Or if any of you know who could use more yarn.”
“The women over at St. Paul’s are knitting and crocheting baby blankets or blankets for the less fortunate. You can drop yarn off there anytime.”
“Thank you. I wonder how many garbage bags I could fill.”
The others snickered.
“My daughter said my fabric stash is out of control. I’ve sworn off fabric stores,” Maxine averred.
“Are you going through withdrawal?” Josie snickered.
“I think so. I drive faster when I see a fabric store. The other way, I mean.”
When the clock neared noon, they put their things away.
Maxine commented, “You know the evening group is meeting twice a month; what about this one?”
“I’m sure they will let us use a room here more often. I’ll check and let you know.” MJ nodded. “Thanks.”
Later, when they were leaving the room, Roxie murmured to Ginny, “The first time for anything is always the hardest. Good for you for coming.”
Ginny nodded and blinked fast several times. “Thanks. Not sure if I am happy with Amalia or not, but she can be mighty persuasive when she tries.”
Amalia giggled. “I twisted her arm, gently, of course. I wouldn’t want to leave a bruise.”
MJ asked, “How about the four of us go have lunch?”
“I—I…” Ginny was shaking her head.
“Good idea.” Amalia stepped in. “A chicken Caesar salad sounds good to me so how about the Ritz Café?” She leaned closer to Ginny. “Then we’ll go back to your house and I won’t bother you until supper.”
“Promise?”
She nodded. “I promise. Unless, of course, you need to show me how I can help out in the greenhouse. With all the work you’ve put in out there, I hate to see the plants die from neglect.”
“What if I cry? Seems that’s all I do.”
Roxie assured her, “Never fear, you are with your friends who love you, crying or not.”
The Ritz was nearly full, but they found a table in a fairly quiet corner. Service there, as always, was excellent.
Ginny did all right until a woman stopped by their table to extend her sympathy. “We all miss Fred so much. And the service was lovely, so well done.” Her voice was cloying as she patted Ginny’s hand. “If I can do anything for you, please let me know.”
“Thank you, I—I appreciate that.” She held it together until the woman and her friend moved on. Then the tears broke over the dam and she dug in her purse for a tissue.
Amalia handed her one. “It’s okay, you handled it very well.”
“I’ll get the checks,” Roxie whispered. “We’ll see you later.” She and MJ watched the other two head for the car. “My heart hurts so bad for her.” She rolled her lips together. “And all she can do is get through it.”
“I wish I knew a way to help her more.”
“I know. Don’t we all?” She tucked the tip under one of the glasses. “The best thing we can do is listen, let her talk it out and cry it out.”
“It’s just not fair.” MJ slung her purse over her shoulder. “Just not fair.”
“Notes and cards are a real comfort. I can remember one friend, and every week, I got a card from her for several months at least. The best cards were those that shared a memory they had of Greg. I kept them all in a scrapbook.” She half smiled. “I’ve not looked at that book for a long time, but it was a help when I needed it.”
MJ paused, apparently to think. “Perhaps we could help respond to all the cards and donations?”
“Now, that would be a good idea.”
Out in the parking lot, where their cars were parked next to each other, MJ paused again. “What are you doing this afternoon?”
“Paperwork. Have a proposal to put together and clean up on several others. The paperwork is enough to drive Realtors out of business. What all is required with a sale now takes two trees, all single-spaced, and legal-size reams.”
“Better you than me.”
“You want to get paid, you do the paperwork. And I like my lifestyle. You know that old saw, make hay while the sun shines.”
“Or, it never rains but it pours?”
“That too. See you later.”
Driving, Roxie’s thoughts turned to Loren. Nate had called nearly every evening since he’d delivered the rug. He invited her for coffee on Saturday morning. So much for help getting the yard work done. She found herself humming as she drove her convertible into the garage.
Saturday morning when Loren got back from coffee, she found her mother in her office.
“Did you have a good time?”
“I guess. Nate said his father invited us for barbeque at his house tomorrow afternoon, you know like for early supper?”
“And you said?”
“I’d ask you.”
“Do you want to go?”
Loren half shrugged. “I guess.”
Well, don’t act too excited, my girl. Roxie swallowed her comment and nodded. “Should I call and ask what we can bring?”
Loren shook her head. “How should I know?”
“We’ll just take a hostess, er, host gift. Do you know his wife’s name?”
“The father’s not married. Divorced years ago.”
“Oh.”
“You want to go work in the backyard now?” Loren asked.
“Sure. Before it gets too hot.”
“No, before it rains. You can feel it on the wind.”
A barbeque tomorrow. As Amalia so often said, Life changes in an instant and we have no control over it.
Chapter Thirteen
&n
bsp; Grandma, we left you alone.” Addy wrapped her arms around her grandma.
Ginny held her close, tears dripping down on her head. “I wasn’t alone, Amalia has been here. And besides, I think this was a good thing.” Liar. Nothing has been good since you found Fred. “But you know what, we sure missed your cookies.”
“But people brought lots of cookies and pies and cakes and everything,” Addy protested.
“Probably there are lots in the freezers, both here and at your house. But fresh are better.”
“I don’t want to make peanut butter ones.” She lifted her tear-stained face to Ginny. “I don’t ever want to make peanut butter cookies again.”
How to answer this? Ginny smiled. Or tried to. “Grandpa liked them a lot. Someday we might want to make them as a tribute to him.”
“We could change the name on the recipe to Grandpa’s Peanut Butter Cookies.”
“That’s a good idea.” Ginny smiled again on the outside.
“Andy didn’t want to come.”
“I understand but I thought that one night when neither of you have something going on…”
Addy sounded weary. “It’s summer vacation, Grandma. We don’t have homework, you know.”
“True, but you both have ball practice and games…”
“Games are on Saturday unless we do a tournament on Saturday and Sunday. You’re coming on Saturday?”
The last thing in the world I feel like doing. “Wouldn’t miss it. Want some lemonade?”
Addy looked around. “Is Miss Amalia still here?”
“I think she is down in the garden.”
“The flowers or Grandpa’s?”
“Grandpa’s. You go tell her to come up for lemonade.” Ginny checked her watch. “About dinnertime. I’ll get something started while you go get her. You rode your bike over?”
“Yep. Dad said to ask if you need help with the chores tonight. I can do them.”
“How about I call your mom and invite everyone here for hamburgers and something out of the freezer?”
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