Page 63 of Threads of Kindness
Anita gasped. The seats were all full, and people stood behind the last row.
“I was so focused on talking to you, I didn’t hear anyone come in,” she whispered to Sunday.
Maggie, Susan, and the eight other women from their book club filled the front row.
Gordon squeezed Anita’s elbow. “You’re going to be brilliant,” he said quietly before joining the group standing at the back.
Sunday stepped to the podium and began her introduction.
Anita spotted Gordon in the crowd. He gave her a thumbs-up.
Sunday concluded her remarks, and Anita took a deep breath. She squared her shoulders and began her talk.
CHAPTER 32
Alistair
We’ve had a busy day. The mail carrier just left, and three packages were delivered to the front door this morning. Roman and Eve—obviously—had leapt out of their warm beds to race to the door, barking their heads off. Household security was one of their primary jobs, and I appreciated their attention to it.
I knew we still had hours to go before Maggie or John got home. The cats coiled on the sofa, looking like someone had stitched them into a furry throw. Eve and Roman were in their baskets by the hearth. Because my attic was so cold recently, I stayed downstairs.
The dogs and I were getting drowsy when the click of the opening garage door roused us. Eve and Roman lifted their heads from their paws to listen. Someone opened the door from the garage, and they bolted from their beds. I followed at a more decorous pace.
Maggie came through the door, depositing her satchel on the floor. She bent and greeted her faithful companions, then hurried through the house and raced up the stairs to her bedroom.
The three of us followed at her heels.
Maggie slipped off her business suit and tossed it onto the bed. She kicked off her heels and removed her expensive gold watch and fine jewelry, depositing them on a tray atop her jewelry chest. She entered her closet, pulled on a sweatshirt and sweatpants, and shoved her feet into fuzzy slippers.
Before we even had time to make ourselves comfortable, she tore out of the room and back down the stairs.
The mistress of my house was a creature of habit. Her bedroom routine always included hanging up her clothes and storing her jewelry. Today’s behavior was most out of character. Something was up.
I was at her side when she stepped off the bottom stair onto the first floor. I expected her to retrieve her satchel and begin typing away at that silver rectangle that unfolded. That was what she did when she came home in the middle of the afternoon. But Maggie did no such thing.
She lit fires in the library and the living room while humming“My Funny Valentine.” She was in fine spirits, so I knew nothing was wrong, but I couldn’t figure out what was going on.
I didn’t have long to wait.
The doorbell rang, and Maggie was there so fast she beat both Eve and Roman. She flung open the door, and there stood two of my favorite people.
Susan was on the threshold, holding the hand of a small person I knew had to be Julia, although she was so thoroughly bundled up against the cold, I could barely see her face.
Maggie drew them both inside and shut the door behind them.
“Grammy!” Julia’s excited cry was muffled by her scarf.
Maggie dropped to her knees and helped the little girl out of her protective outerwear. Julia flung her arms around hergrandmother, almost knocking Maggie to the floor. Maggie rocked her granddaughter from side to side, then steadied the little girl and got to her feet.
Susan placed a bright pink backpack decorated with Disney princesses by the stairs. “Did you check with John?” she asked. “Is this really okay?”
“Oh, please,” Maggie said, rolling her eyes. “You’d think that man had won the lottery. He’s picking up a cheese pizza on the way home and promised to be here by five thirty.”
“Julia loves cheese pizza,” Susan said. “I hope you didn’t order that only because she likes it. You should get whatyouwant.”
“It’s fine,” Maggie replied. “John and I didn’t even talk about it. He simply texted me that he’d ordered it.”
“He certainly wins Grandpa of the Year—again,” Susan said, grinning. “I hope he understands how grateful Aaron and I are.”
