LITMIR.BIZ

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not one but two dishes—a green bean casserole and a Jell-O mold. Leah radiated goodwill, appearing not the least threatened that her closest pal had acquired a new friend.

      From the nursing home, Karen had fetched Mae Anne McRay, the liveliest octogenarian Jenni had ever met, who’d prepared a fruit salad. Despite being confined to a wheelchair due to osteoporosis, she served on the city council.

      Two people were missing. Renée Lowell, Karen and Barry’s mother, whom Jenni had met previously, had stayed at the convalescent home because of a headache. A quadriplegic since a tractor hit her car years earlier, Renée had inspired Karen to apply her business administration training to running the convalescent center.

      In addition, Amy Arroyo, the police chief’s notoriously absentminded secretary, hadn’t shown up by the time the women began taking their places around the table. Karen went into the kitchen to call her and returned a few minutes later.

      “She forgot,” she reported.

      “No surprise there,” Gwen responded.

      “She said she’s taking a bubble bath and reading a book. Naturally, she didn’t remember to fix any food, either.” Karen shook her head indulgently. “I urged her to come anyway, but she declined. I think she was embarrassed.”

      “She should be,” Mae Anne observed.

      “I hope it’s a good book. Still I doubt it’s worth missing this feast,” Jenni said.

      “Amy ought to pay more attention to real life,” the hostess replied. “I hope you aren’t offended.”

      “Not at all,” Jenni responded. “I learned a long time ago that it’s healthier to forgive and forget.”

      “Does that include Ethan Forrest?” Karen teased as she took a seat.

      Across the table from Jenni, Leah let out a low whistle. “Getting a little personal, aren’t we?”

      “He didn’t mean to attack her in front of the council!” cried Rosie, who, Jenni was learning, tended toward the dramatic. “Surely she doesn’t hold it against him.”

      “Of course not. The woman isn’t blind.” Mae Anne helped herself to the Jell-O mold. She’d positioned her wheelchair at the foot of the table, where the food gravitated toward her. “He’s the best-looking single man in Downhome. How could anyone hold a grudge against Ethan?”

      “He was at the café earlier.” Gwen tilted her head, apparently visualizing him. “It’s a darn shame he’s still carrying the torch for his late wife. That man’s too good to waste.”

      “There are other desirable men around here,” Jenni protested. “Like your brother, Karen.”

      “Not in his current state,” her hostess replied promptly. “He’s got too much to prove before he can even consider getting involved with anyone.”

      She’d explained earlier about her brother’s murder conviction. Sharing a house with a killer had made Jenni uneasy at first, but Barry had reassured her with his openness and his intellectual curiosity about almost everything. She’d come to believe he really was innocent.

      “Rosie’s son Mark is cute,” volunteered Gwen. “He’s a lieutenant at the police department.”

      “Too young for me, even if he wasn’t my cousin,” Leah noted. “He’s only twenty-eight. I’m surprised he doesn’t have a girlfriend, though.”

      “He went to the senior prom with Amy, but he doesn’t have a girlfriend now,” responded her aunt. “He’ll probably die a bachelor and I’ll never have grandchildren!”

      “Aren’t there any other cute guys over thirty?” Jenni asked.

      “Pepe Otero.” Rosie clapped her hand to her mouth. “I didn’t mean to say that! He likes Gwen.”

      “He does not,” said the café owner. “Besides, he wouldn’t dare ask me out. It’s kind of a long story, Jenni. See, he gets food at a discount from Beau Johnson, who’s mad as a wet hen because I organize a once-a-month Farmers Market that he considers competition for his grocery store. Beau ups the prices anytime I walk in the door, so I buy my supplies out of town.”

      Rosie nodded. “When she needs milk, I pick it up for her.”

      Jenni wondered if they were joking. “You don’t mean the grocery store changes prices for different customers!”

      “Just Pepe and me,” Gwen explained. Heads nodded. “Pepe gets a discount—because Beau figures his restaurant is my competition.”

      “Well, if Pepe won’t ask out the woman of his dreams because he might have to pay more for milk, he’s a pretty poor prospect,” Jenni said.

      “I agree,” Gwen volunteered. “A man ought to have the courage of his convictions. A woman, too. If I were young enough, I wouldn’t give up a chance at Ethan Forrest, even if it meant paying triple for everything.”

      “Could we not talk about the chief?” Jenni asked, and then realized she’d probably revealed more than she meant to about the state of her thoughts.

      Tactfully, no one pointed out that she wouldn’t mind if they were discussing, say, Beau Johnson’s romantic attributes. Or anyone else’s.

      “Okay,” responded Karen. “Who has news to share?”

      During the brief silence that followed, Gwen handed around a plate of cookies. At last Leah spoke. “I guess this is as good a time as any to make a confession.”

      Karen paused with a gingersnap in one hand. “About a man?”

      “No! About myself.” The teacher steepled her hands on the table. “I suppose I should have discussed it with you before, Karen, but I came to this decision on my own. I’m going to leave Downhome.”

      A flurry of shocked responses filled the air. “Why?” and “Since when?” and “Where would you go?”

      Jenni listened with a trace of envy. She couldn’t help recalling that no one at the hospital in L.A. had seemed distressed upon hearing of her impending departure.

      “I’m not sure where,” Leah explained. “Next month, I’m going to visit my cousin in Austin, Texas, and then an old friend in Seattle to apply for teaching jobs. It could take a while to land one, so my departure isn’t imminent.”

      “What brought this on?” Karen looked the most stunned of anyone.

      Leah gazed around the table. “Certainly not a desire to leave my old friends. Still, except for college, I’ve lived my whole life in Downhome. If I don’t leave, I’ll grow old here without ever having an adventure. I guess that sounds kind of naive, but it’s what I want. And I’d like to have children, too.”

      “I can relate to that,” Karen admitted. She and Leah were both thirty-two, a year younger than Jenni.

      She understood their feelings. Sometimes when she held a baby or examined a child, she was overcome by a longing to have one of her own. However, her parents had set such a poor example that she wasn’t sure how well she would handle motherhood. She might risk it if she met the perfect guy, but how likely was that?

      “You were always such a shy child,” Rosie said. “Then you turned from a duckling into a swan in high school and scared off the guys.”

      “Is that what happened?” Leah asked ruefully. “They sure steered clear of me. It was painful.”

      “Is finding Mr. Right part of your plan?” Karen asked.

      “Not really.” Her friend gave her an apologetic smile. “I want to do exciting things, get to know new places, do something wild. I can’t act that way here. A guy—well, he might hold me back. I’ve been thinking about adopting a baby from a foreign orphanage.”

      “I had a brief spell of

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