grandkids. My daughter’s been hinting pretty hard that I need to come back home. I figured a special delivery of some of my homemade cookies should appease the little ones at least for a while. I’m sending some more of Gram’s fancy work down to LeeAnn too.”
“I’d be pretty homesick for them if it was me,” Mary Beth admitted. “All I have is my niece, Amy, and I really miss her between visits. Well, there’s my sister, of course, but, um, we’re working on that particular relationship.”
“Have you talked to her much since your mother passed away?”
“A couple of times.” There was regret in Mary Beth’s voice. “She stays pretty busy.”
“How’s Amy?”
“She’s doing fine. She and this young man she works with seem to have hit it off.”
“Is that Elliot? Umm, Evan?”
“Everett.”
“That’s right. The one with the little boy. Just think, soon you could be a step-great-aunt.”
Mary Beth chuckled. “I’ll leave that to Amy for now, but his son Peter is a sweet little fellow. And at least I’d have something to show when all you grandmas whip out the photos.”
A maidenly little ding from the oven timer brought Annie back to matters at hand.
“Listen, Mary Beth, my oven’s hot now. I have to put these cookies in. We’ll plan on Monday unless I hear from you.”
“Sure thing. Happy baking.”
Annie hung up the phone and started spooning out dough. Soon she had two dozen cookies plumping up in the oven, and two dozen more ready to go in next.
While the cookies baked, she washed out the mixing bowl and spoon she had used. Then she laid out a generous length of waxed paper, ready for when the cookies came out of the oven. Gram had taught her the little trick of moistening the countertop to make the paper lie flat instead of curling up. It was just a little thing, but it made using the waxed paper so much easier.
There had to be some things, some little things, she could do to make it easier to get to know Sandy Maxwell. Annie still felt foolish when she remembered her so-called conversation with Tom. No wonder he hadn’t been very receptive.
Maybe, once she had made sure things at the Maxwells’ were OK, she and Sandy could become friends. And then maybe that would make it easier to get to know Tom too. Annie knew too well how hard it could be to find a place to fit in a small town like Stony Point where everybody knew everybody else and their business. Maybe nobody had ever reached out to the Maxwells before now. She couldn’t imagine how lonely it must be to live out there away from everybody.
By the time the last of the cookies had cooled, Annie had decided that the Maxwells were much too isolated. A few chocolate-chip cookies and some good, old-fashioned neighborliness might just be the cure.
****
“I’m still not too sure about this.” Alice looked up at Tom and Sandy Maxwell’s house. “I’d feel a lot better if there were some neighbors around.”
“We are around.” Annie turned off the engine and unbuckled her seatbelt. “Besides, you were the one who insisted on coming along. I could have done this by myself.”
Alice scurried out of the passenger seat with Annie’s bag of cookies. “No, I told you I was coming, and I meant it. We’re here now, so we’d better make the most of it.” She considered for a moment. “Do you suppose she could use some new costume jewelry or some reasonably priced home decor?”
Annie shook her head, chuckling. “You are not going to try to sell her anything.”
“Of course not.” Alice grinned. “Not right away. But if we’re trying to get her to meet people, what could be better than a party? And if there just happens to be jewelry or decorative items available, well …”
She shrugged, and Annie hurried her up to the house. “You know you’re not serious. Just behave.” She used the brass knocker. They waited for several minutes, but no one came to the door. “Well, we know Tom is at A Stitch in Time,
“I’d be pretty homesick for them if it was me,” Mary Beth admitted. “All I have is my niece, Amy, and I really miss her between visits. Well, there’s my sister, of course, but, um, we’re working on that particular relationship.”
“Have you talked to her much since your mother passed away?”
“A couple of times.” There was regret in Mary Beth’s voice. “She stays pretty busy.”
“How’s Amy?”
“She’s doing fine. She and this young man she works with seem to have hit it off.”
“Is that Elliot? Umm, Evan?”
“Everett.”
“That’s right. The one with the little boy. Just think, soon you could be a step-great-aunt.”
Mary Beth chuckled. “I’ll leave that to Amy for now, but his son Peter is a sweet little fellow. And at least I’d have something to show when all you grandmas whip out the photos.”
A maidenly little ding from the oven timer brought Annie back to matters at hand.
“Listen, Mary Beth, my oven’s hot now. I have to put these cookies in. We’ll plan on Monday unless I hear from you.”
“Sure thing. Happy baking.”
Annie hung up the phone and started spooning out dough. Soon she had two dozen cookies plumping up in the oven, and two dozen more ready to go in next.
While the cookies baked, she washed out the mixing bowl and spoon she had used. Then she laid out a generous length of waxed paper, ready for when the cookies came out of the oven. Gram had taught her the little trick of moistening the countertop to make the paper lie flat instead of curling up. It was just a little thing, but it made using the waxed paper so much easier.
There had to be some things, some little things, she could do to make it easier to get to know Sandy Maxwell. Annie still felt foolish when she remembered her so-called conversation with Tom. No wonder he hadn’t been very receptive.
Maybe, once she had made sure things at the Maxwells’ were OK, she and Sandy could become friends. And then maybe that would make it easier to get to know Tom too. Annie knew too well how hard it could be to find a place to fit in a small town like Stony Point where everybody knew everybody else and their business. Maybe nobody had ever reached out to the Maxwells before now. She couldn’t imagine how lonely it must be to live out there away from everybody.
By the time the last of the cookies had cooled, Annie had decided that the Maxwells were much too isolated. A few chocolate-chip cookies and some good, old-fashioned neighborliness might just be the cure.
****
“I’m still not too sure about this.” Alice looked up at Tom and Sandy Maxwell’s house. “I’d feel a lot better if there were some neighbors around.”
“We are around.” Annie turned off the engine and unbuckled her seatbelt. “Besides, you were the one who insisted on coming along. I could have done this by myself.”
Alice scurried out of the passenger seat with Annie’s bag of cookies. “No, I told you I was coming, and I meant it. We’re here now, so we’d better make the most of it.” She considered for a moment. “Do you suppose she could use some new costume jewelry or some reasonably priced home decor?”
Annie shook her head, chuckling. “You are not going to try to sell her anything.”
“Of course not.” Alice grinned. “Not right away. But if we’re trying to get her to meet people, what could be better than a party? And if there just happens to be jewelry or decorative items available, well …”
She shrugged, and Annie hurried her up to the house. “You know you’re not serious. Just behave.” She used the brass knocker. They waited for several minutes, but no one came to the door. “Well, we know Tom is at A Stitch in Time,
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