“Yes. My husband was killed in a plane crash three years ago.”
“I know. You aren’t the only one who uses the Internet. Both your husband and your father worked for a huge perfume conglomerate. You never said anything about that.”
“Why should I? Mom and I don’t really have anything to do with the company.”
“You do smell good most of the time.”
“Most of the time?” she flared.
“Chlorine isn’t one of your better scents.”
“I’ll have you know you’re the only man in the world who could get me into a public swimming pool. I live in mortal fear that my hair’s going to turn green in that overchlorinated water and it’ll be entirely your fault.”
“Then don’t come.”
“Uh-huh. And miss getting splashed by you? It’s the highlight of my week!”
He laughed, and in her mind she saw the mercenary who stood guard over his feelings lay down one weapon in his arsenal.
They spoke for two hours. Before they said good-night, Mark admitted he’d been in bed a full thirty minutes before he phoned. He wouldn’t have called at all, he said, if not for the fact that he couldn’t sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, the thought of her waiting in bed taunted him until he couldn’t tolerate it anymore.
On Thursday afternoon, after her belly dancing class, Barbie met her mother for lunch. Lillie had already arrived at the upscale hotel restaurant and was reviewing the menu when Barbie joined her. Lillie did an immediate double take.
“My goodness, you look wonderful! I know it’s a cliché, but you’re positively glowing.”
“It’s just sweat. This belly dancing is hard work.”
“No, it’s more.” Lillie set the menu aside. “Is it that…man?”
“His name is Mark and yes, now that you mention it, he and I have been talking.”
“You really like him, don’t you?”
Barbie was crazy about him, but she wasn’t ready to let her mother know that. She didn’t want to ruin their lunch; so far, Lillie had been accepting of the situation and Barbie wanted it to stay that way.
“I didn’t come to talk about Mark. I want to know how things are developing between you and Mr. Silva.”
Lillie smiled, her eyes warm. “If I tell you something, you have to promise not to laugh.”
“Mom, I won’t laugh.”
“We’ve been bowling twice in the last week.”
“Bowling?”
“I’m good at it.”
“My mother’s a bowler. I’m calling Jerry Springer,” Barbie teased.
“Oh, stop it,” Lillie said and blushed.
“All you do is bowl?”
“Oh, heavens, no. We’ve gone for long walks and we attended a lecture at the Seattle Art Museum and signed up for a Chinese cooking class.”
“What I mean is, has he kissed you?”
Lillie lowered her eyes. “Yes. We might be over sixty, but we aren’t dead.”
“That’s for sure.” In fact, her mother looked more alive than she had in years. “I think this is great!”
“What about you and Mark?”
There wasn’t much to tell. “We’ve talked for the past three nights.” Mark had confessed he generally didn’t enjoy chatting on the phone. Still, they’d talked nearly two hours every time. Gradually, he was opening up to her and he became as engrossed in their conversations as she did.
When Barbie returned from lunch that afternoon, a large floral arrangement had been delivered. “Who sent the flowers?” she asked.
“Don’t know. The card’s addressed to you,” one of her employees announced.
Eagerly she removed the small envelope and tugged out the card. Mark had written his name, together with a short note. This time the flowers really are from me.
Chapter 27
The big day had finally come. Dolores Falk was going home after nearly a month away, first in the hospital and then a nursing facility. According to her physicians, the heart surgery had been a complete success and Dolores had many good years left.
Certainly Anne Marie had noticed a definite improvement in the older woman. Every day Dolores seemed to regain more of her strength and her spirit. She was as eager to get home as Ellen was to join her there.
Thursday morning at breakfast, Ellen talked incessantly about moving back with her grandmother. The instant she got home from school, she ran upstairs to pack her bag. Anne Marie could hear her telling Baxter that she’d visit him soon. Ellen had him repeat the tricks they’d practiced—rolling over and playing hide-and-seek with his tennis ball—a few times for good measure. “So you won’t forget,” she told him sternly.
Anne Marie drove the child to her old neighborhood. “Remember, your grandmother’s been very sick,” she cautioned her.
“I know. I won’t do anything to upset her,” Ellen promised.
She glanced at the girl sitting in the passenger seat, the dog on her lap. “You can come see Baxter whenever you want,” she said.
“Can I see you, too?”
“Of course.”
“Will you still be my Lunch Buddy?”
Ellen must’ve asked the same questions ten times since they’d been told that Dolores was being released. “Of course,” she said again.
“Goody.” And then as if she’d almost forgotten something important, Ellen added breathlessly, “What about Lillie and Barbie and Mrs. Beaumont? What about Lydia and Margaret and Susannah and Theresa?” she asked. “Will I be able to visit them, too?”
“I’m sure that can be arranged.” Her friends and neighbors didn’t know yet that Ellen was moving back with her grandmother. As soon as they heard, they’d send their love to Ellen, and to Dolores.
“I’ll still knit every day,” Ellen assured her. She had a knitting bag now, the same as Anne Marie’s. Young as she was, the child had proven to be an adept knitter.
“Me, too,” Anne Marie said. She’d finished the lap robe for Dolores earlier and had given it to her during their most recent visit; she’d completed Melissa’s baby blanket, as well. For her third project she planned to knit Ellen a sweater and had chosen a simple cardigan pattern. The girl had picked out a soft rose-colored yarn. Ellen was working
