She clicked off and called Audrey’s cell phone. Thankfully, Audrey answered on the first ring.
Bree told her the same thing she’d told CeeCee, minus the loud and slow. Nor did she mention that she’d actually forgotten all about CeeCee and had to backtrack. “Has she called wondering where I am?”
“No,” Audrey said. “But she wouldn’t. You just take your time, sweet girl. She’ll wait for you. It’s not like she has a hot date or anything.”
Bree laughed, then wrinkled her brow, watching herself frown in the rearview mirror. Did Audrey somehow know about Aaron? She wouldn’t put it past her mother-in-law. Audrey was perceptive . . . sometimes too perceptive.
CeeCee wasn’t waiting on the porch, and when she hadn’t answered the doorbell after three rings, Bree used her key and let herself in. It was stifling in the little two-story house, but CeeCee always kept the thermostat at eighty, summer or winter. Still, considering CeeCee’s age, she felt a touch of misgiving about what she might find. She walked through the rooms of the little house, calling CeeCee’s name.
The door to the master bedroom was open. The shades were drawn and lamps turned off. But the lump in the bed was unmistakably CeeCee, tiny as the almost eighty-five-year-old woman was. It wasn’t even seven o’clock yet. For a minute, Bree froze, thinking the worst.
But soft snoring came from the bed and Bree flipped on the light and went to the bedside, kneeling beside Tim’s grandmother. “CeeCee?” She patted the crepey, thin arm that lay atop the quilt. “Are you feeling okay?”
A snuffle, and a start, and CeeCee sat up in bed, looking disoriented and weak.
“Are you okay?” Bree looked into the rheumy eyes, trying to determine if she was ill.
CeeCee threw back the covers and squinted at the clock. She was wearing a cotton nightgown. “Oh, no. Did I oversleep?”
“It’s my fault,” Bree said, not sure if CeeCee was confused or if she was referring to her nap. But surely she hadn’t changed into a nightgown just to take a nap. “I’m late picking you up for our Tuesday dinner.” She cast about the tidy room, looking for the outfit CeeCee had been wearing. “Can I get your clothes for you?”
CeeCee looked down at her nightgown. “Oh, I don’t think I’ll change.”
Bree laughed, but CeeCee’s expression said she wasn’t kidding. Bree went to the closet and chose a pair of elastic-waisted pants and a colorful blouse she’d seen the woman wear often. “How about this?”
“I really think I’ll just stay here. I’m pretty tired. I played bridge all afternoon, you know.”
“Oh, but don’t you want to go out to Grant and Audrey’s for dinner? Everyone will be disappointed if you don’t come.”
“They’ll get over it.” She waved a frail hand and sank back onto the pillows. “Audrey said she’d do the dessert tonight anyway.”
Was that what was bothering CeeCee? It was usually her job to furnish the dessert for Tuesday nights. But it wasn’t like her to get her feelings hurt over something so petty. “Are you sure you feel okay? Have you eaten?”
“I’m just tired. Don’t you worry about me. You go on and have a good time. Give them all my love.” She sounded more like herself now.
But Bree was still worried. She said her good-byes, but didn’t feel quite right about leaving. She locked the door behind her, but in the driveway, she called Audrey again and told her how she’d found CeeCee.
“I wouldn’t worry too much, honey. She did play bridge today, so maybe she’s just worn out. And if she insisted, you can’t force her to come.”
“Well, if you’re sure.”
“Grant will check on her later tonight. You come on. We saved a plate for you.”
“Okay.”
Backing out of the driveway, she shot up a prayer for Tim’s grandmother. If anything happened to CeeCee, she would never forgive herself. And none of this would have happened if she hadn’t been daydreaming about that stupid movie date.
Chapter 2
2
She drove too fast and arrived at the Chicory Inn just as they were clearing the table and dishing up dessert—Audrey’s apple crisp and homemade ice cream. She held up the bags of rolls from the bakery and gave a sheepish smile. “Anybody want a roll?”
Audrey took them from her. “Don’t worry about it. We had plenty to eat. I’ll just put them in the freezer for next week. Unless you want one now?”
“Are you kidding? Forget my plate.” She pointed to the apple crisp, which filled the kitchen with a tart, cinnamony scent. “This can be dinner for me.”
“Don’t be silly.” Audrey gave her a one-armed hug and thrust a warm plate at her, a sampling of the supper she’d missed. “You eat. You’re too skinny as it is. And don’t you worry, I’ll make sure there’s apple crisp left for you.”
“And ice cream,” Bree said, taking the proffered plate, but casting a suspicious eye on Tim’s brother, Link, and three brothers-in-law who were standing at the counter snarfing apple crisp and looking as if they could easily put away a second bowl before she could put a dent in her plate.
Tim’s three sisters came to her defense, ushering their husbands away from the counter. “You let us worry about them,” Landyn said. “You eat, sis.”
It warmed her heart when Tim’s sisters included her, calling her “sis” the way they did with each other. “Thanks for having my back.”
“You know we do,” Danae said, laughing even as she shooed Dallas from the counter for the second time.
“Grant must have the kids?” Bree said over a mouthful of green bean casserole. She hadn’t seen any of them yet. “And where’s that new baby?” Corinne and Jesse’s new little girl—four girls for them now—had been born on Father’s Day less than a month ago. Bree had only seen little Sasha twice since then. She was learning how quickly babies grew up, and she didn’t want to miss holding this newest little one while she was still tiny.
“Sasha and Tyler are both asleep upstairs,” Corinne said. “Poppa has the other six down in the meadow playing some target game he invented.”
“Did Poppa get any apple crisp yet?” Bree asked, eyeing the dwindling supply.
Audrey popped her head around the corner. “Poppa had two servings before any of you even got here. Don’t you worry about him, Bree.”
She gave an exaggerated whew and took a bite of Audrey’s lasagna. The sisters started putting food back in the fridge and loading the dishwasher, and she hurried to finish eating so she could help. It seemed like she sailed in late too often and ate while the others did the work of cleaning up. They never seemed to resent her for it, but she sometimes worried they might.
When they were finished in the kitchen, Audrey shooed the young women to the family room. “I’ll be there
