My house looks like I put it together from a jumble sale.” One hand flew to cover her mouth. “Not that yours does—just the opposite, you have really stylish furniture.”
“It’s not my style, though,” Laura confessed, shrugging off the unintentional slight. “My husband was the contemporary fan. I prefer the furnishings at Annie’s.”
“Like Cindy and Flynn,” Katherine mused. “She loves Victorian and he likes ultramodern. They compromised by turning her house into a children’s refuge center. Still, it always takes me aback when I see how the new one’s furnished.”
“And Cindy doesn’t mind?” Laura wouldn’t have thought the independent woman would capitulate so completely.
“She’s so nuts over Flynn she said she could live in a cave and be happy.”
No. Cindy and Flynn weren’t anything like she and Jerry had been.
Grace touched Laura’s arm. “I hope we’re not upsetting you, talking about spouses.”
“No. It’s okay.”
“If it ever does, will you tell us?”
Laura knew it wouldn’t be a worry. “Okay. If you’ll agree to tell me something.”
“Sure.”
“How did you get comfortable with the neighborly help?”
Grinning, Grace clapped her hands. “It’s a long, long story. Which I’ll be glad to tell you when we meet for lunch.”
Laura found herself smiling, as well. “Lunch?”
“As soon as we can set it up.”
Her smile grew. Jerry had frowned on anything she had done that took her away from the house. It had been difficult even to schedule her volunteer work. He had given in on that only because his mother encouraged Laura’s efforts. But even casual lunches with Donna used to set him off. Now, her sense of freedom soared.
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