Page 51 of Sassy & Sixty

Mary’s gaze flicked curiously between Rosie and Mike.

"Mary, this is Mike," Rosie said, unable to keep the pride out of her voice. "Mike, this is my daughter Mary and my son-in-law, Ted."

Mike stepped forward, his smile warm and genuine. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mary. I've heard so much about you." Mary's initial reserve seemed to melt away as she shook Mike's hand.

“I’ll just go and say hello to Ted,” he said, walking over to the car, where Ted was attempting to move the double pushchair out of the way so he could fit in all the rest of the paraphernalia.

“Let me help,” said Mike, taking the pushchair so that Ted could load the boot.

Behind them Mary shot her mother an approving look. Rosie felt her heart swell with happiness. Seeing Mike interact so naturally with her family felt right in a way she hadn't expected.

"So, Mike," Mary said, raising her voice, a mischievous glint in her eye, "I hope you know what you're getting into with Mum and her Sensational Sixties Squad. They're quite the handful."

Mike laughed, standing up to wrapping an arm around Rosie's waist. "Oh, I think I can handle it. In fact, I'm rather looking forward to the adventure."

As Mikeand Ted packed the last of the clothes, snacks and toys into the car, Rosie felt a deep sense of contentment wash over her. Yes, the day had been chaotic. Yes, there was a very real possibility that she'd be finding grass stains and stray crayons in her handbag for weeks to come. But it had also been filled with laughter, love, and the kind of memories that would keep herwarm on even the coldest nights. And Mary had met Mike…that was a huge hurdle navigated.

"Same time next week?" Emma asked hopefully as they said their goodbyes.

Mary's eyes widened in alarm, but Rosie just smiled. "Absolutely," she said. "Though perhaps we'll stick to indoor activities next time. I'm not sure the local goose population could handle another Emma encounter."

As she watched her friends disperse, each heading home with stories to tell and grass stains to scrub out, Rosie turned to Mike.

"So," she said, suddenly feeling a bit shy. "Think you can handle the excitement of it all?”

“Oh yes,” he replied. “Very much so.”

"RICHARD'S LAST STAND"

Rosie peered out from behind her living room curtains for the umpteenth time that morning, her eyes narrowed as she scanned the quiet suburban street. To the casual observer, it was a perfectly ordinary Wednesday. But Rosie knew better. Somewhere out there, lurking behind a hedge or possibly in a parked car, was Richard. They knew this because his vehicle had been spotted at the back of Rosie's house earlier that day. And it wasn’t the first time. Since they had bumped into him at the park with the twins, he’d been back in full stalking mode. They’d spotted him in lots of places, but hadn’t got close enough to tell him what they thought, or alert the police to his presence.

"Any sign of him?" Catherine's voice sounded anxious.

Rosie shook her head, letting the curtain fall back into place. "Not yet. But if he's out there, we'll call the police. We should have done so ages ago."

"He's definitely there. I can feel it in my bones," said Catherine, wringing her hands.

It had been two weeks since Richard's behaviour had escalated from the occasional drive-by to more persistentsurveillance. He'd been spotted peering through windows and lingering in the neighbourhood far too often for comfort.

"I still can't believe he followed me to my book club," Catherine moaned, collapsing onto the sofa. "Who does that? I mean, what did he think I was going to do? Run off with Mr. Darcy?"

Emma, who had been pacing the room like a caged tiger, snorted. "Well, to be fair, that Colin Firth does have a rather impressive... presence on screen."

Julie, who had been sketching furiously in the corner, looked up from her pad. "You know, this whole situation is actually quite thought-provoking. I'm thinking of doing a series called 'Love and Loss in Later Life.' Too melancholic?"

Before anyone could respond, the doorbell rang, making them all jump. Rosie approached it cautiously, half-expecting to find Richard on the other side with a bouquet of flowers and a poorly thought-out apology. Instead, she opened the door to find Trisha, looking uncharacteristically frazzled.

"Ladies," Trisha announced, sweeping into the room with the air of someone about to unveil a particularly brilliant plan, "I've had an idea."

Emma perked up. "Ooh, is it the kind of idea that involves a nice glass of wine? Because I've got a lovely Bordeaux I've been saving for a special occasion."

Trisha waved away Emma's suggestion. "No, no. Well, maybe later. But first, I think I've figured out how we're going to solve our Richard problem once and for all."

The room fell silent as they all leaned in, eager to hear Trisha's plan. Even Julie paused in her sketching, her pencil hovering expectantly over the paper.

"We're going to set up a situation where we can confront him directly," Trisha declared, her eyes glinting with determination.

What followed was a planning session that would have put most diplomats to shame. The living room was transformed into a strategy room, with Julie's artistic skills put to use creating an elaborate map of the neighbourhood. Emma, in a stroke of inspiration, suggested using her collection of colourful fridge magnets as markers for key locations.

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