Sherry laughed. “Jack hired his seventeen-year-old son to trim them—even though Betsy warned him not to— and knowing Jack, he gave pretty precise instructions. But Justin has a mind of his own, so he ignored them. He’s a good kid, but I’m glad I’ve got girls. Boys seem to have too many hormones.”
I frowned for a second before I buried it. I didn’t think Sherry saw it, but I was surprised to find that I was jealous that she’d bonded so quickly with my replacements. Life moved on for me. Why shouldn’t it for my best friend?
She took my hand and said, “Come on into the kitchen. I’ve got a pan of sweet rolls that came out two minutes ago, and there’s fresh coffee, too.”
Sherry was famous for her sourdough bread and rolls, and I knew Zach would be envious when he found out I’d sampled some. I glanced at my watch. “What about the girls? Don’t you have to pick them up at school?”
She laughed. “That’s right, you don’t know. Lindsay got her license, and she persuaded her dad to buy her a car.”
“And Bill actually did?” Her husband was notoriously tight with money, and they had a hefty savings account to prove it.
“Come on, you know he’s always had a tough time saying no to her. The beauty of it is, she’s happy to drive to school, even if it means she has to pick Haley and Jessie up on her way home. I can’t tell you how freeing it’s been. Now come on, let’s get those sweet rolls before the girls get home and demolish the pan.”
I followed her inside, forgetting my momentary lapse and trying to enjoy being with my friend again. We’d email and talk on the telephone from time to time, but there was no substitute for personal contact. Though I’d made a few new friends in Parson’s Valley, none of the relationships had had the chance to blossom yet. It was true what they said; there were no friendships like old ones.
The three girls came in just as we finished a sweet roll apiece, laughing about something. After hugging each of them and marveling at how much they’d grown, I excused myself.
“Let me walk you out,” Sherry said, and turning to her daughters, she added, “Save one for your father.”
“Do we have to?” Jessie asked.
“Fine, go ahead and eat his. It’s on your head, though, not mine.”
Jessie pulled her hand away. “It’s not worth it.”
“You got that right,” Sherry said. “I’ll be back in a second.”
Back at my car, Sherry hugged me again. As she did, I felt like I was truly home again. “How long are you going to be in town?”
“I’m not really sure,” I admitted.
“You could always stay with us, but it might be a little tight,” she offered.
“Thanks, but we’re staying at the Belmont
She raised one eyebrow. “My, my, my. We’re coming up in the world, aren’t we? And don’t try to tell me you’re paying for it with your puzzle money. I know better.”
“If you can believe it, we’re guests of the hotel’s owner.”
“Savannah, you are running in some rarified circles these days.” She paused after she said it, looked past me, and then waved her hand in the air. “Betsy, come on over. There’s someone you’ve got to meet.”
The last thing I wanted to do was see my replacement, but I turned to see a tall, thin woman with wiry blonde hair coming toward us.
As she neared, Sherry said, “This is Savannah Stone.”
“I love your puzzles,” she said, absolutely gushing. “I don’t know how you do it. They’re wonderful.”
Sherry grinned. “When I told her whose house she bought, she was thrilled. You’ve been wondering who your biggest fan was. Well, say hello to her.”
I offered her my hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Stay right here. Don’t move,” Betsy said.
“Where’s she going?” I asked Sherry as the woman hurried quickly back across the street.
“I have no idea. She’s a hoot, isn’t she?”
“She’s something, all right.”
A minute later, Betsy came back waving a newspaper in her hand. “I got it. Would you mind signing this for me? It would be such an honor.”
“Of course, I’d be delighted,” I said. I was rarely asked for an autograph outside of a puzzle convention. There I was treated like some kind of minor celebrity, but in everyday life, no one seemed to know—or care—who I was, or what I did for a living.
After I signed the puzzle, she took it back and stared at my autograph for a few seconds. “You just made my day. Sorry, I’m usually not this ditsy, but I always get this way around famous people.”
Sherry and I both laughed, and to Betsy’s credit, she smiled back.
I explained, “I’m really not all that much of anything important.”
“Trust her, she’s telling the truth,” Sherry said.
“Well, you are to me.”
That got us laughing again.
