returned, smirking. “I wanna know what’s goin’ on. Gotta make sure Daddy’s little girl doesn’t get herself in any trouble.”
“Just leave me alone!” Shelley railed.
“Take it easy,” James cautioned. “He’s only trying to rile you.”
Erik boomed, “No, I’m serious!”
James glared at him. “Shut up.”
They were about to continue arguing but fortunately Abigail Weston brought her aged but trim and hale figure through the open door. She gasped in pleasant surprise at the transformation of her new digs. “Oh Shelley!” she exclaimed, her pleasant British timbre ringing mellifluously, which she’d maintained despite fifty years in New York. “Everything looks simply wonderful. You really went through –” She stopped abruptly as her sparkling blue eyes took in the dour faces of the young adults. She frowned. “What happened now? Can I really not leave you four alone for even an hour?”
“Erik’s being an idiot again,” Ashleigh quipped.
But Erik, the charming devil, draped an arm around the elderly woman and gave her his most disarming smile, which always worked in pixie dust ways. “A concerned brother, Mrs. Weston.”
“Of course you were,” she replied knowingly. “Now, thank you both so much for all your help. Please come visit whenever you like.”
“Wait, you kickin’ us out, Mrs. Weston?” Erik asked in feigned disbelief.
“Well, alright, Mr. Mitchel, if you wish for the blunt knife.” Abigail grinned pleasantly.
Erik grabbed his chest as if she stabbed him. “Agh!” he groaned. “You’re tossing me to the sharks.”
“But you are a shark, dear.” She patted his cheek as Ashleigh giggled.
James who was already headed to the door, thought to ask, “Zach got discharged, right? How’s he doing?”
Abigail’s mood dimmed slightly. “Same as ever, I dare say.” She sighed. “Anyway, give your parents my regards.”
Erik pecked her on the cheek, Ashleigh gave her hug and said, “It’s gonna be great having you across the hall”, and James bid her goodbye, casting a backwards glance at his sister who wouldn’t look as they trooped out.
Abigail shut the door, exhaled brightly, and surveyed the lay of the wide apartment with pleasure. She discarded her purse on the kitchen counter and walked over to the window where the daughter of her late husband’s partner hung the draperies. “Oh, that’s sensational, dear,” she enthused, hands on her hips. “You have quite a knack for this.”
Shelley turned around and smiled, brown eyes regaining some spark. “Not true, but thank you.” She descended the ladder and pulled off the tie securing her ponytail. “Did your grandson like the soup?”
Abigail’s face darkened in shade. “I don’t think he had any.” She shook her head. “He was rather evasive when I asked. And he’s a terrible liar. Robert always said you can read the boy like a billboard.” She smirked sadly.
“I’m sure things will be better now that you’re living here closer to him.” Shelley sidled up to Abigail and put an arm around the woman just as Erik did. “Just think: you can invite him for afternoon tea, have candlelight suppers on the veranda, brunch with Jared and Carrie, and I’ll serenade you during every meal. For free .”
Abigail laughed heartily. “What’s in it for you?”
“I get to see you without having to go to Long Island.” She smiled with a tongue-in-cheek expression.
“Ho! I see how it is. Well, I’m glad I can accommodate, though I don’t approve of you avoiding your parents.”
Shelley sighed and started towards sealed boxes. Kneeling down by the coffee table, she tore open one.
“Ashleigh mentioned you’re not going to the wedding. May I ask why?”
“Because. I don’t want to be on display in front of four hundred people who know everything about me.”
“Is that all?” Abigail scoffed. “I’m sorry, dear, but that’s a terrible excuse. Even Zachary, who mind you would
“Just leave me alone!” Shelley railed.
“Take it easy,” James cautioned. “He’s only trying to rile you.”
Erik boomed, “No, I’m serious!”
James glared at him. “Shut up.”
They were about to continue arguing but fortunately Abigail Weston brought her aged but trim and hale figure through the open door. She gasped in pleasant surprise at the transformation of her new digs. “Oh Shelley!” she exclaimed, her pleasant British timbre ringing mellifluously, which she’d maintained despite fifty years in New York. “Everything looks simply wonderful. You really went through –” She stopped abruptly as her sparkling blue eyes took in the dour faces of the young adults. She frowned. “What happened now? Can I really not leave you four alone for even an hour?”
“Erik’s being an idiot again,” Ashleigh quipped.
But Erik, the charming devil, draped an arm around the elderly woman and gave her his most disarming smile, which always worked in pixie dust ways. “A concerned brother, Mrs. Weston.”
“Of course you were,” she replied knowingly. “Now, thank you both so much for all your help. Please come visit whenever you like.”
“Wait, you kickin’ us out, Mrs. Weston?” Erik asked in feigned disbelief.
“Well, alright, Mr. Mitchel, if you wish for the blunt knife.” Abigail grinned pleasantly.
Erik grabbed his chest as if she stabbed him. “Agh!” he groaned. “You’re tossing me to the sharks.”
“But you are a shark, dear.” She patted his cheek as Ashleigh giggled.
James who was already headed to the door, thought to ask, “Zach got discharged, right? How’s he doing?”
Abigail’s mood dimmed slightly. “Same as ever, I dare say.” She sighed. “Anyway, give your parents my regards.”
Erik pecked her on the cheek, Ashleigh gave her hug and said, “It’s gonna be great having you across the hall”, and James bid her goodbye, casting a backwards glance at his sister who wouldn’t look as they trooped out.
Abigail shut the door, exhaled brightly, and surveyed the lay of the wide apartment with pleasure. She discarded her purse on the kitchen counter and walked over to the window where the daughter of her late husband’s partner hung the draperies. “Oh, that’s sensational, dear,” she enthused, hands on her hips. “You have quite a knack for this.”
Shelley turned around and smiled, brown eyes regaining some spark. “Not true, but thank you.” She descended the ladder and pulled off the tie securing her ponytail. “Did your grandson like the soup?”
Abigail’s face darkened in shade. “I don’t think he had any.” She shook her head. “He was rather evasive when I asked. And he’s a terrible liar. Robert always said you can read the boy like a billboard.” She smirked sadly.
“I’m sure things will be better now that you’re living here closer to him.” Shelley sidled up to Abigail and put an arm around the woman just as Erik did. “Just think: you can invite him for afternoon tea, have candlelight suppers on the veranda, brunch with Jared and Carrie, and I’ll serenade you during every meal. For free .”
Abigail laughed heartily. “What’s in it for you?”
“I get to see you without having to go to Long Island.” She smiled with a tongue-in-cheek expression.
“Ho! I see how it is. Well, I’m glad I can accommodate, though I don’t approve of you avoiding your parents.”
Shelley sighed and started towards sealed boxes. Kneeling down by the coffee table, she tore open one.
“Ashleigh mentioned you’re not going to the wedding. May I ask why?”
“Because. I don’t want to be on display in front of four hundred people who know everything about me.”
“Is that all?” Abigail scoffed. “I’m sorry, dear, but that’s a terrible excuse. Even Zachary, who mind you would
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