and breathed in his woodsy, familiar smell. “You haven’t lost me,” she whispered. Not yet . Behind her the kettle began to whistle shrilly, and as she moved to take it off the heat she wondered if anything really had been resolved.
Lynne resisted the urge to press on her car horn as the hundreds of cars around her seemed to be doing. Eve at ten o’clock at night the traffic on FDR Drive was moving at a snail’s pace, and the voice on the radio droned on about accidents and closed lanes and forty-five minute delays.
She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the seat. She didn’t miss this. Of course, no one missed New York City traffic, the endless snarl of cabs and discontented drivers. Yet as Lynne opened her eyes and took in the grey cityscape stretching in every direction, visible under a sickly yellow wash of street lights, she was surprised to realise how little she’d missed the city during her two weeks in Vermont. She missed Molly, of course, and Sarah and her other friends, but the hustle and bustle of the Big Apple--the urban energy she and Adam had thrived on for over twenty years--she didn’t miss at all.
“A penny for your thoughts,” Jess said, smiling whimsically. Lynne smiled back.
“I was just thinking about the city,” she admitted, “and how little I miss it.”
Jess nodded. “I haven’t missed Edinburgh very much either,” she said. “Any of it, really. I’ve been so taken up with our plans in Vermont...” She ducked her head almost shyly. “I mean, your plans--”
“Oh, Jess.” Lynne shook her head, covering her friend’s hand with her own for a brief moment. “They’re your plans too. This project is as much yours as it is mine.”
“Thank you,” Jess said after a moment, her eyes bright. She looked out the window at the stopped cars, the murky East River moving sluggishly by under a pall of moonlight. “I think the hotel in Perthshire was really Rob’s plan, now that I look back on it. I was excited about it, of course, but it was his idea. His dream.” She shook her head, biting her lip. “Sometimes I wonder if I was just a vehicle for making it happen. Miss Moneybags.”
“Surely he didn’t have to marry you for that,” Lynne replied, trying for a little levity. Jess gave a shrug.
“I cooked as well,” she said, her mouth crooking upwards in a cynical smile. “It was a good deal for him, until the money disappeared.”
“Well, I think the fact that neither of us has been missing the city shows we’re ready for a change,” Lynne said briskly. “And once this appeal goes through, we can head back to Vermont and really get started.”
“You do think it will go through?” Jess asked.
“You spoke to Mrs. MacCready. What do you think?”
“She’s a character,” Jess said with a sigh. “I honestly think it will depend on what sort of mood she’s in at the moment.”
“Let’s hope blood really is thicker than water,” Lynne replied with a grin. “After all, you MacCreadys need to stick together.”
The traffic began to move, and Lynne’s spirits lifted. Surely Agnes would relent. The last time she’d spoken to John, he’d been so confident. Just the memory of his warm smile and steady eyes made her anxiety lessen... even as her pulse rate kicked up a notch. Yet that little flutter of excitement wasn’t unwelcome... just a bit scary.
By the time they arrived back at the apartment, it was nearing eleven o’clock. Jess took herself off to bed, and feeling too wound up to sleep, Lynne switched on the kettle. She took in the rather disconsolate sight of a discarded meal: a single soup bowl and mug, and two tea bags lying damply in the sink. She felt a ripple of unease; Molly had told her Jason was visiting this weekend, and she would have expected them to go out for a meal or something equally celebratory. Perhaps they were still out, Lynne decided, only to have Molly appear in the kitchen doorway, alone.
“Hi, Mom. Good
Lynne resisted the urge to press on her car horn as the hundreds of cars around her seemed to be doing. Eve at ten o’clock at night the traffic on FDR Drive was moving at a snail’s pace, and the voice on the radio droned on about accidents and closed lanes and forty-five minute delays.
She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the seat. She didn’t miss this. Of course, no one missed New York City traffic, the endless snarl of cabs and discontented drivers. Yet as Lynne opened her eyes and took in the grey cityscape stretching in every direction, visible under a sickly yellow wash of street lights, she was surprised to realise how little she’d missed the city during her two weeks in Vermont. She missed Molly, of course, and Sarah and her other friends, but the hustle and bustle of the Big Apple--the urban energy she and Adam had thrived on for over twenty years--she didn’t miss at all.
“A penny for your thoughts,” Jess said, smiling whimsically. Lynne smiled back.
“I was just thinking about the city,” she admitted, “and how little I miss it.”
Jess nodded. “I haven’t missed Edinburgh very much either,” she said. “Any of it, really. I’ve been so taken up with our plans in Vermont...” She ducked her head almost shyly. “I mean, your plans--”
“Oh, Jess.” Lynne shook her head, covering her friend’s hand with her own for a brief moment. “They’re your plans too. This project is as much yours as it is mine.”
“Thank you,” Jess said after a moment, her eyes bright. She looked out the window at the stopped cars, the murky East River moving sluggishly by under a pall of moonlight. “I think the hotel in Perthshire was really Rob’s plan, now that I look back on it. I was excited about it, of course, but it was his idea. His dream.” She shook her head, biting her lip. “Sometimes I wonder if I was just a vehicle for making it happen. Miss Moneybags.”
“Surely he didn’t have to marry you for that,” Lynne replied, trying for a little levity. Jess gave a shrug.
“I cooked as well,” she said, her mouth crooking upwards in a cynical smile. “It was a good deal for him, until the money disappeared.”
“Well, I think the fact that neither of us has been missing the city shows we’re ready for a change,” Lynne said briskly. “And once this appeal goes through, we can head back to Vermont and really get started.”
“You do think it will go through?” Jess asked.
“You spoke to Mrs. MacCready. What do you think?”
“She’s a character,” Jess said with a sigh. “I honestly think it will depend on what sort of mood she’s in at the moment.”
“Let’s hope blood really is thicker than water,” Lynne replied with a grin. “After all, you MacCreadys need to stick together.”
The traffic began to move, and Lynne’s spirits lifted. Surely Agnes would relent. The last time she’d spoken to John, he’d been so confident. Just the memory of his warm smile and steady eyes made her anxiety lessen... even as her pulse rate kicked up a notch. Yet that little flutter of excitement wasn’t unwelcome... just a bit scary.
By the time they arrived back at the apartment, it was nearing eleven o’clock. Jess took herself off to bed, and feeling too wound up to sleep, Lynne switched on the kettle. She took in the rather disconsolate sight of a discarded meal: a single soup bowl and mug, and two tea bags lying damply in the sink. She felt a ripple of unease; Molly had told her Jason was visiting this weekend, and she would have expected them to go out for a meal or something equally celebratory. Perhaps they were still out, Lynne decided, only to have Molly appear in the kitchen doorway, alone.
“Hi, Mom. Good
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