Page 8 of The Spotted Cottage By the Sea
They were perfect – golden brown, round, and dusted with sugar. She reached in and took one. “Where did you buy these?”
“I made them.”
“Don’t you have enough problems? Making donuts, my word.” Patty took a bite. There was a crisp snap as she bit in, a hint of vanilla, and of course, the perfect puff of fluffy dough. “This iswonderful. But I wouldn’t expect any less from you.”
“You could sell them in the shop,” Sheila mused. “Give me a job.”
Without thinking, Patty scoffed. “And pay you with what?”
Sheila leaned down to pick up her purse. “With tea, maybe? I don’t know. I don’t care. Let me pick the music and you have a deal.”
“I’m not hiring,” Patty said flatly, starting the walk back to her car. She needed to change the subject. “Do you want to go to the movies? I think there’s something with that actor you like.”
Sheila drew herself up and followed behind. “What actor?”
“You know, the handsome one.” Patty flashed a smile. “Idris Elba. I know how you like him.”
“I don’t think I’ve seen him in anything,” Sheila said. “I don’t want to watch a movie. I want to know what’s going on with you.”
“We can go for a picnic,” Patty continued. “There’s a wonderful little shop that opened in town and they sell ready-to-go picnic baskets. I know that you like brie, and they bring in these great big cheese wheels from France –”
“Stop trying to distract me with cheese. It’s not going to work.” Sheila stopped walking, both feet firmly planted on the sidewalk. “I came here to talk about you. What’s going on?”
“Nothing is going on. I just decided to make a change.”
Sheila tilted her head. “Oh really? You’ve decided to move to the New York countryside on your own? It had nothing to do with Brian?”
“I’ve a mind of my own. Don’t start on me with that!” Patty threw her hands up. “You know, Brian had a good point. The cottage and the tea shop are on a beautiful property – ten acres, right on the water. Maybe someone could do something useful with it.”
Sheila’s mouth fell open. “What do you mean somethinguseful?It’s your home!” She narrowed her eyes. “Is Brian trying to convince you to sell? Is that what this is about?”
“Selling is aresponsibleidea, Sheila.”
“Since when have you been responsible?”
Patty looked at her watch. “You know, if we hurry, there still might be something left at the bakery. I like their croissants. Terrible for my blood sugar, but wonderful for my soul.”
Patty turned and kept walking until she reached her car. She opened the driver’s side door and waited for Sheila to catch up.
“Patty.” She pulled the back door open and dumped her things inside. “You’re the one who tried to convince us to quit our jobs when we had a one-year-old and move to the Fiji Islands with you.”
“That was agreatopportunity!” She shook her head. “I don’t think you would’ve liked the bugs, though.”
“You lived on a cruise ship for a year. You once traded your minivan for a motorcycle. Since when have you been concerned about being responsible?”
Patty stuck her nose into the air. “Maybe I think it’ll be a fun change! It’s like joining the circus again, except all the performers are old like me.”
She got into the driver’s seat and started the car. Sheila got in next to her and buckled her seat belt.
Patty cleared her throat. “Of course, I would split the money. Half to you, and half to Brian.”
Sheila sucked in a deep breath, her lips growing tight and pale, her eyes narrowed. When she spoke again, her voice was a whisper. “I do not need money, and neither does Brian.”
Now she’d done it. If she could’ve planned what to say to upset Sheila the most, that was it. “Can’t an old woman have her secrets? Let me ride off into the sunset with my dignity.”
Sheila crossed her arms. “If I was worried about your dignity, I would’ve hired a guy with a tuba to follow you around to play your own personal soundtrack.”
Patty tried to keep a straight face, but the image floated into her mind and stuck. She started to laugh, and then Sheila started to laugh, the two of them wailing in the car like fools.
