take the weekend to go fishing, and when she’d hear the clink of ice in the drink, she’d know her daddy was done thinking and the world was set to rights again.
Greta was still thinking on things, feigning stitching moves just to keep Esther and Pauline from distracting her with their sewing chatter, when Olivia walked into the morning room at Golden Years. Miss Sadie pranced along beside Olivia in her usual Diva Dog red jacket. Greta had already snuck a peek at Olivia’s schedule this morning—when she’d distracted the duty nurse by having Pauline fake a coughing fit. That had given Greta just enough time to duck behind the desk and flip through the scheduling log.
She had fourteen minutes until Olivia’s first appointment. Just enough time to put the first wheel of her plan into motion.
“Good morning, ladies,” Olivia said. Pauline and Esther greeted her in return, then went back to their quilting, Esther as serious as a schoolmarm about the baby blue quilt she was putting together for a grandchild on the way. Pauline just went through the motions, her attention on Greta and Olivia. Greta had had to tell Pauline of her plan earlier—she needed that distraction, after all—and now Pauline was waiting like a teenager on prom night to see what happened.
Olivia leaned over and pressed a kiss to Greta’s cheek. “And what are you up to this morning, Grandma?”
Greta liked the sound of the word
Grandma
coming from Olivia. Liked Olivia very much. She was the perfect addition to the imperfect Winslow family. “Me? I’m not up to anything.”
Olivia laughed. “Uh-huh. Then why are you quilting? You hate quilting.”
“Shush. Don’t say that out loud. Esther might hear.”
Esther kept her head down, intent on her whipstitching. “I already did hear. There are days when I wonder why you joined our quilting club, Greta.”
“Because I love your company, Esther. And because it gives me something to do besides watch
The Price is Right
.”
“Well, if that’s the case, then one would think you’d do more
quilting
at quilting club,” Esther said.
“I would, but you know I got the arthritis in my hands.” Greta held up her hand, bending the fingers and faking a wince. “Awful bad. Maybe you should quilt for me, Esther, what with your amazing dexterity and talent for patterns.”
Pauline choked on a laugh. Esther’s face pinched, but she kept silent and whipstitched at lightning speed.
“You are terrible,” Olivia whispered.
“I prefer to call it intelligently lazy,” Greta whispered back.
“That’s one way of putting it.” She started to turn away, about to leave, and Greta hadn’t had a chance to launch her plan yet. Worldwide domination for the Common Sense Carla column was one mere happy ending away. Greta didn’t give a fig about the column reaching beyond Rescue Bay’s borders, but she did care about making sure one particular princess found her perfect prince.
“Do you have a minute?” Greta asked. “I was hoping you could keep me company until your appointments.”
Olivia slid into the opposite chair and crossed her arms on the table. Miss Sadie sat beside her on the tile floor, her little nose sniffing the air, probably hoping for a treat from one of the residents. “Now you know I love chatting with you, Grandma, but I get the feeling there’s something afoot.” She cocked her head. “You’re not scheming again, are you?”
“Who me? Scheme? I don’t do that.”
Pauline snorted. Esther tsk-tsked and started back in on her quilting, working at an even more furious pace, as if taking out her Greta disapproval on the thick blue-and-white squares. A moment later, the door to the morning room opened, and one of the candy striper volunteers came into the room, pushing a metal cart.
“Ooh! It’s make your own pretzel day! I almost forgot.” Esther popped out of her seat, the whipstitch forgotten. “Come on, Pauline, let’s go get a pretzel.”
“I don’t want a
Greta was still thinking on things, feigning stitching moves just to keep Esther and Pauline from distracting her with their sewing chatter, when Olivia walked into the morning room at Golden Years. Miss Sadie pranced along beside Olivia in her usual Diva Dog red jacket. Greta had already snuck a peek at Olivia’s schedule this morning—when she’d distracted the duty nurse by having Pauline fake a coughing fit. That had given Greta just enough time to duck behind the desk and flip through the scheduling log.
She had fourteen minutes until Olivia’s first appointment. Just enough time to put the first wheel of her plan into motion.
“Good morning, ladies,” Olivia said. Pauline and Esther greeted her in return, then went back to their quilting, Esther as serious as a schoolmarm about the baby blue quilt she was putting together for a grandchild on the way. Pauline just went through the motions, her attention on Greta and Olivia. Greta had had to tell Pauline of her plan earlier—she needed that distraction, after all—and now Pauline was waiting like a teenager on prom night to see what happened.
Olivia leaned over and pressed a kiss to Greta’s cheek. “And what are you up to this morning, Grandma?”
Greta liked the sound of the word
Grandma
coming from Olivia. Liked Olivia very much. She was the perfect addition to the imperfect Winslow family. “Me? I’m not up to anything.”
Olivia laughed. “Uh-huh. Then why are you quilting? You hate quilting.”
“Shush. Don’t say that out loud. Esther might hear.”
Esther kept her head down, intent on her whipstitching. “I already did hear. There are days when I wonder why you joined our quilting club, Greta.”
“Because I love your company, Esther. And because it gives me something to do besides watch
The Price is Right
.”
“Well, if that’s the case, then one would think you’d do more
quilting
at quilting club,” Esther said.
“I would, but you know I got the arthritis in my hands.” Greta held up her hand, bending the fingers and faking a wince. “Awful bad. Maybe you should quilt for me, Esther, what with your amazing dexterity and talent for patterns.”
Pauline choked on a laugh. Esther’s face pinched, but she kept silent and whipstitched at lightning speed.
“You are terrible,” Olivia whispered.
“I prefer to call it intelligently lazy,” Greta whispered back.
“That’s one way of putting it.” She started to turn away, about to leave, and Greta hadn’t had a chance to launch her plan yet. Worldwide domination for the Common Sense Carla column was one mere happy ending away. Greta didn’t give a fig about the column reaching beyond Rescue Bay’s borders, but she did care about making sure one particular princess found her perfect prince.
“Do you have a minute?” Greta asked. “I was hoping you could keep me company until your appointments.”
Olivia slid into the opposite chair and crossed her arms on the table. Miss Sadie sat beside her on the tile floor, her little nose sniffing the air, probably hoping for a treat from one of the residents. “Now you know I love chatting with you, Grandma, but I get the feeling there’s something afoot.” She cocked her head. “You’re not scheming again, are you?”
“Who me? Scheme? I don’t do that.”
Pauline snorted. Esther tsk-tsked and started back in on her quilting, working at an even more furious pace, as if taking out her Greta disapproval on the thick blue-and-white squares. A moment later, the door to the morning room opened, and one of the candy striper volunteers came into the room, pushing a metal cart.
“Ooh! It’s make your own pretzel day! I almost forgot.” Esther popped out of her seat, the whipstitch forgotten. “Come on, Pauline, let’s go get a pretzel.”
“I don’t want a
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