“I suppose you put some of that Dijon mustard in this chicken salad, too.”
Alex shook her head. “Plain yellow, just like you ordered.”
“Good.”
No thank you, no how kind. Alex wasn’t sure why she bothered. There were others in town who would appreciate her efforts more but, then, she didn’t do this to be showered with gratitude. She liked the warm feeling she received from helping others regardless of their reaction. Her mother and Claire had set a good example in that department.
Besides, she always felt a little sorry for Mrs. Redmond. Her life had been tough. She had lost a couple children and her husband had died young.
Some people—her sister Maura, for example—faced their sorrows with courage and grace and refused to allow hurt and loss to define them.
Others, like Mrs. Redmond, became angry and bitter, taking their internal pain out on everyone around them and keeping away anybody who wanted to reach out.
Alex considered her own outlook to fall somewhere in the middle. She could understand Frances Redmond’s desire to huddle over her hurts and keep anyone else from inflicting more. Maybe that’s why she could view her surliness with an exasperated empathy.
“I’ll see you next time. Have a lovely week.”
“It’s supposed to rain every day,” Frances grumbled.
“Then that soup I made will surely hit the spot, won’t it?” She grinned all the way back toward her car.
Just before she reached it, a boy riding past the house on a blue mountain bike braked when he spotted her.
“Hi, Aunt Alex!”
Her heart lifted at the name. Claire’s son had always called her Aunt Alex, even before his mother married her brother and made their relationship official. “Hey, Owen. How’s my favorite dude?”
The ten-year-old gave her a grin that she imagined would break a fair number of hearts someday. “I’m good. What are you doing here?”
“Just passing by. Why aren’t you in school?”
“We had early release today for some teacher work day thing and only had half a day. Riley is coming home early and we’re goin’ fishing. Mace and Mom are going shopping in a little while.”
Her wild, once-hardened brother had definitely turned his life around and had become a fantastic stepfather to Claire’s two children, Owen and his sister, Macy, from her first marriage. She never would have expected him to be so good at it but he had transitioned smoothly into Claire’s complicated life.
The two of them shared custody with Claire’s ex and his wife. So far they all seemed to be making it work.
“Wow. How manly of you both,” she said to Owen. “If you catch any trout, bring them by the restaurant and I’ll fix them up for you.”
She opened the door of her SUV and was greeted by a friendly “where have you been?” sort of bark.
Owen’s head swiveled around. “You got a dog! I didn’t know you had a dog!”
“Not mine,” she said. “I found him wandering the streets last night. I’m looking for his owners now.”
“What a great dog. You really just found him? Do you know his name?”
“I’m calling him Leo. It’s a long story.”
He seemed to accept that in his calm, unruffled way. “Cool. Hey, Mom,” he suddenly yelled, “Alex is here.”
She wasn’t technically there, she was next door. And she didn’t really have time to visit but she couldn’t be rude now that she saw Claire walking around the side of the house.
She looked voluptuously pregnant and quite adorable in a loose denim work shirt that was probably Riley’s, sleeves rolled up to her elbows, and a pair of rubber muck boots with green frogs imprinted on them.
“Hi! Did you ring the bell? Sorry, I must have missed it. I’ve been back in the garden. In a few months, I won’t be able to bend over so I figured I should probably do what I can now.”
“And after that, you’ll be too busy to keep up with the garden. Or anything else, for that matter.”
“I know. But isn’t it wonderful?”
She beamed and touched her growing abdomen. Alex was hit with a fierce, aching sadness. She forced it away. “Fabulous. I still can’t quite picture Ri with a newborn but I’m sure he’ll be great at it. I know you will. You’ve already raised two of the greatest kids on the planet.”
She rubbed Owen’s artificially blond-tipped hair he had horrified his mother with the last time he came back from staying with his father and stepmother.
“I was just finishing up. Have you got time for a cup of tea?”
“Better not. I’ve got to run to the restaurant. Technically, I wasn’t stopping to see you this time. I took a few meals in to Frances.”