A Wild Goose Chase Christmas: Quilts of Love Series by Jennifer Allee Page A

remember? Lots of stairs and no elevator. I’m afraid she’s all yours, Sis.”
    There was no use fighting it. Brandon was right. His place was totally out of the question. Mom would have to stay with her while she healed up.
    Izzy heard a grunt and a snuffle. Behind her, Virgil dozed in his chair. She turned to Max. “You should probably get him home.”
    Max stood up. “Are you going to be all right?”
    “Yes. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your support today.”
    “I’m sorry,” her brother blurted out. “We haven’t met. I’m Brandon Fontaine. Izzy’s brother.”
    “Max Logan.” He held out his hand, making Brandon shift his coat from one arm to the other in order to reciprocate. “This is my grandfather, Virgil. We were friends of Mrs. Randolph. And now, of Izzy.”
    “I see.” Brandon pumped his hand, sizing him up. “Well, thanks for staying with my sister. But I’ve got it from here.”
    “Good to hear.” Max moved to Virgil and shook him gently. “Gramps. It’s time to go.”
    “Huh? What?” Virgil looked around, eyelids half-open. “I didn’t miss dinner, did I? It’s tapioca night.”
    “Don’t worry. I’ll get you back in time for tapioca.” Max looked at Izzy. “Will I see you on Monday?”
    She nodded. “Absolutely. Four o’clock at the museum.”
    As the two men walked away, Izzy again took note of how Max cared for his grandfather. In the same way, he’d cared for her today, even though they barely knew each other. If his mother had set out to raise a gentleman, she’d certainly done a fine job of it.
    “You have a date on Monday?” Brandon asked.
    “It’s not a date. It’s a business meeting.”
    “At a museum?”
    “Yes.”
    Brandon tilted his head, just a bit. “A meeting at a museum about something valuable? Sounds interesting.”
    Izzy sighed. Why did her brother always see dollar signs before anything else? “I’ll tell you about it later. Can I go back and see Mom now?”
    “Sure. She’s been asking for you.”
    “She has?”
    “Yeah, she’s already making a list of the things she needs you to get from her house.”
    Oh goody. They left the waiting room and headed to a bank of elevators. “Did the doctor say how long it will take her to heal?”
    “About eight weeks, give or take.”
    Brandon threw it out casually, like it was no time at all. But Izzy immediately did the math. Eight weeks. Two months. If Mom behaved herself, which was a very big if . Which meant Mom would be staying with her through Thanksgiving, Christmas, and into the new year.
    Tidings of comfort and joy would be a lot harder to come by this holiday season.

7
    I t’s just me, Bogie.”
    Izzy maneuvered past the dog and into the house, pushing the heavy door closed behind her with her foot. Bogie stopped barking but he pranced around her feet, his nose pointed at the fast-food bag dangling from her hand.
    “This isn’t for you.”
    The scolding sent him slinking into the corner. He lay down, nose on paws, but kept his eyes trained on her.
    Depositing her armload of stuff on the table, Izzy let out a sigh. “What a day.” She kicked off her shoes and stretched out her poor, tired feet. As a rule, Izzy avoided heels. Even the sensible ones she’d chosen today threw her body out of whack if she wore them too long. And everything about today had gone on too long.
    A few minutes later, dressed in her most comfortable pair of sweatpants and a baggy sweatshirt, Izzy curled up on the couch with her fast-food dinner. As she was about to take a bite of her burger, Bogie whimpered.
    Izzy shook her head. How could that one little sound communicate so much? “OK. You can join me.” The dog shot up asif on springs, scampered over, and jumped onto the couch. Izzy held up her palm, giving him the signal to sit and stay. “You know the rules, buddy. You have your side; I have mine.”
    Bogie sat, head up, giving her his full attention. Either that or he was thinking of a way to