Page 90 of This Time Around
“I’m of the opinion that a woman’s bra shouldn’t set off metal detectors.”
“Good idea.” She looked at Allie and smiled. “So you know my Grandma Louise?”
“I do. I used to go over to your dad’s house for dinner sometimes many, many years ago.”
“Back when you and my dad were boyfriend and girlfriend.”
“That’s right.”
Paige blew into her own mug of tea, though Allie could see flecks of mostly melted ice cubes drifting on top. “Did my grandma make corned beef for you?”
“She did.” Nostalgia twisted her lungs into knots, and she breathed deeply to unkink them. “With carrots and cabbage and baby potatoes. It was amazing.”
“She still makes that. It’s my favorite.” Paige took big slurp of tea. “Did your mom make corned beef, too? When my dad came over for dinner, I mean.”
“My mom’s not much of a cook.” She crossed her fingers Paige wouldn’t keep going with this line of questioning. In all honesty, Priscilla Ross had never once invited Jack to dinner. “My grandma used to make really nice dinners, though,” she added. “At the bed and breakfast where all the cats are now. She’d make stuffed quail and coq au vin and all kinds of other pretentious-sounding foods.”
“What’s pretentious?”
Allie laughed. “My family. It’s kind of a fancy way of saying stuck up.”
“Pretentious,” Paige repeated. “A pretentious way of saying stuck up.”
“Exactly.”
Paige seemed to consider that. “You don’t seem pretentious.”
“Thanks. I’ve had a long time to work on it.”
The girl went quiet again, and they both sipped at their tea in silence for a bit. Allie glanced at her watch. They still had fifteen minutes to kill.
“Did you know my mom?” Paige asked.
Allie choked on her tea. She caught herself quickly, hoping Paige wouldn’t notice. “No,” Allie said, coughing a little. “I never knew your mother.”
She sat there stupidly, trying to think of something to say. What did someone even say to a child who’d lost her mother? Surely a smarter, more experienced woman could come up with something. Allie was drawing a blank.
But she gave it her best shot. “Do you remember your mom at all?” she asked softly.
“I think so. Maybe a little. She was pretty, like you, but her hair was kinda curly and shorter. Also, she could do this funny thing with her elbows where they bent the wrong way.”
“You mean she was double-jointed?”
“Yeah,” Paige said. “Me, too. Look.”
The girl proceeded to demonstrate, flipping her arm back so it seemed to hinge the wrong way. Allie grimaced. “Ouch.”
“Nah, it doesn’t hurt.” Paige flipped her arm back the right way and grinned. “My dad says my mom could do it with her shoulders, too. I don’t remember that. I don’t really even remember her voice.”
Allie swallowed hard, utterly charmed and heartbroken for the girl all at once. “I’m sure she loved you very much.”
Paige nodded. Her expression was a little wistful, but not terribly sad. “Me, too.”
“I wish I’d met her.” Allie realized with a start that it was true. She would have liked to know the sort of woman Jack would marry, the kind he’d choose to raise a child with, even if that plan hadn’t turned out the way they expected.
She wanted to offer more, but she wasn’t sure what else to say. Maybe it was best to have conversations like this in small pieces, eking out little bits of history at a time.
A pretty redhead with a stroller and a pre-teen girl at her side ambled through the coffee shop door. Paige waved to the girl and the girl waved back, then mumbled something to her mom.
