“Of course you aren’t,” Donna said, waving her hand in dismissal. “But I did hear from Cathy Conseca down at the post office that you filed a change of address. Nancy, did you buy one of those new condos down on Redbud Street?”
The members of the group turned toward Nancy almost as one. Piece Makers never made life decisions without fully discussing them over the quilting frame.
Nancy met the collective stare. “I got my house fixed up, and it seemed like a good time to sell.”
“Did Bobby Don talk you into this?” Karen asked.
“No. I just wanted to downsize.”
“And you didn’t tell us this last week?”
“I hadn’t decided last week. I decided on Wednesday.”
“But you must have been thinking about it on Tuesday,” Donna said.
“I was, but I didn’t feel that I needed to talk to anyone. Although…” Her voice faded out.
“What?” asked Patsy Bauman, who fancied herself the leader of the pack because her husband was a member of the town council. “Are you regretting the decision?”
“No. But…”
“But what, for goodness’ sake?” Barbara said in her grumpiest tone.
“Well, y’all know that Doc Killough proposed to my daughter.”
“That was last week’s news,” Patsy said, glancing Ashley’s way.
Ashley had been the source of that bit of gossip, even though she hadn’t intended to blab anything secret to the ladies. She’d naturally assumed that Nancy knew about her own daughter’s engagement. Evidently, the starry-eyed lovers had neglected to inform Brenda’s mother that they intended to marry.
Nancy shook her head. She looked deeply troubled. “Y’all, I think maybe I should have had a conversation with someone before I signed those condo papers. Because with Brenda getting married and Jim deciding to move into her beach house, there isn’t a spot for Ella. And I neglected to think about Ella when I was getting excited about the idea of downsizing.”
“They’re kicking Ella out of the beach house?” Karen asked.
“No. They’ve told her she can stay, but the girl is uncomfortable about that. It’s a small house with only one bathroom. I gather that Brenda simply assumed Ella would move into my house, but now Bobby Don says the old house should sell in no time at all.” She sighed heavily.
“Y’all, this is a classic example of what happens when people make bad assumptions. What a disaster,” said Patsy. “Girls, we need to find Ella a place to stay. We can’t have her leaving again, even if Brenda is getting married. It took so long to get her back here in the first place.” Patsy tapped her upper lip for a moment before her eyes sparked, and she turned toward Ashley.
Ashley braced for Patsy’s words. The woman could be so bossy. “You’ve been looking for a kitchen assistant ever since Judy decided to move to Colorado, right?” Patsy asked.
Ashley nodded, her gut clenching. The Piece Makers did this to her all the time.
“That’s perfect,” Nancy said.
“Exactly,” said Patsy. “Ashley can give Ella that job and let her stay in that extra bedroom she has on the third floor.” Patsy spoke as if Ashley weren’t even standing there.
The ladies turned toward her as one.
Cornered again. “Sure,” she said.
Chapter Five
Ella moved her things into Granny’s spare bedroom on Saturday afternoon even though Mom insisted that it wasn’t necessary until after the wedding. But by the time Mom got married, Granny’s house would probably be sold, and Ella wanted to live in the old place for a few weeks before that happened. Besides, Mom and Jim deserved some privacy.
And Granny’s house had been the scene of many happy childhood memories from Thanksgiving and summer visits. She would savor this last visit to the house she loved so much.
In the meantime, she had nothing but time on her hands, so she could help Granny pack up and get the house ready for the market. She dived in, spending several days up in the attic poking through Granny’s memories, boxing up china and books, and driving stuff to the Salvation Army in Granny’s car.
It kept her busy, but by Tuesday afternoon, all that frantic activity gave way to the mother of all pity parties. She sat up in her mother’s old bedroom, feeling lonely and unsettled. What was she going to do after Granny moved? Where was she going to live for the rest of her life? She couldn’t continue to let time pass her by without a plan.
She got out a piece of paper and started making a to-do list. She’d done this many times before. Her wastebasket at the beach house had overflowed with to-do lists that hadn’t gotten done. Not this time. This time she had to pick herself up and move on. Like Mom and Granny were doing.
The summer season was just starting. Maybe she could get a job waiting on tables, or maybe there were gigs to be had in the town’s many tourist traps. She was studying the Help Wanted listings on Indeed when her phone rang.
It was probably Cody…again. He’d been calling her two or three times a day recently. And she’d been hiding from him because she knew what he wanted. Urban Armadillo, his outlaw country band, usually started their summer tour in March, and Ella was sure he hadn’t been able to find a fiddler.
In truth, she needed that job, but she had been resisting because Cody was toxic to her mental health. But in a moment of weakness, she glanced at the caller ID.
Glory. It wasn’t Cody. The number was local but unknown. Intrigued, she pressed the connect button. “Hello.”
“Hey.” The voice on the other end was low and masculine and familiar, although she couldn’t quite place it. “I was wondering if you had time this evening. You know, to grab a bite at Rafferty’s.”
“Who is this?”
“Oh. Uh. It’s Dylan.”
She made a mental note to put Doctor D’s number into her contact list. He was about to become her stepbrother, after all. Even if he did have a crazy-ass plan to break up Mom and Jim’s
