Farewell to Cedar Key by Terri Dulong Page A

it seems she’s picking up the tab. Can you imagine! I have no idea what on earth has gotten into her.”
    I caught the wink that Orli sent me across the table and smiled.
    â€œMom, maybe he makes her happy. Did you ever stop to think about that? Just because she’s paying, it doesn’t mean he’s taking advantage of her. Maybe she enjoys his company, he couldn’t afford his share of the trip . . . and rather than not go at all, CC is paying.”
    My mother waved her hand in the air. “Crazy. That’s what it is. Just downright crazy. And Jane? I spoke to her again today and she doesn’t seem to have a problem with it either.” My mother shook her head before taking a sip of her coffee.
    I let out a deep sigh. “Maybe Jane’s right. Maybe CC’s reached an age when she’s entitled to do stuff like this. Act silly. Be spontaneous. Enjoy the moment.” Saying this, I realized that my mother had probably never once experienced any of those things.
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    After we got home, Orli curled up at the other end of the sofa to watch a rerun of Downton Abbey, the British TV series that we were both hooked on.
    With Clovelly stretched out between us, I began casting on stitches for the first facecloth I planned to make.
    During a commercial, Orli glanced over and said, “Oh, pretty. I love the color. What’s it going to be?”
    â€œA lacy facecloth. I thought they would be nice Christmas gifts for your teachers, with a bar of scented soap wrapped inside.”
    â€œPerfect. Sometimes I think my teachers are thrilled to have me at the beginning of the year because they can count on a nice hand-knit Christmas gift from you.”
    I looked over and saw the smile on her face. “Oh, I doubt that. They know what a superb student they’re getting. Speaking of which, any more thought about where you’ll be applying for college? Is the university in Gainesville still in the running?”
    â€œOh, definitely. I’m just not sure if I want to go to a town I’m so familiar with. Maybe it would be better to go to school in the northeast.”
    I could feel a lump forming in my throat at just the thought of Orli leaving home for college, but I nodded. “Yeah, time to spread your wings, huh? Like where? Boston area?”
    â€œHmm, maybe. Or New York. There’s lots of great colleges there too.”
    The show resumed and I stayed quiet, lost in my own thoughts while I knitted. Who was I to say anything? I had done exactly the same thing when I graduated high school. Left my small-town life and headed to Emerson College in Boston. And of course, I’d never regretted it for one minute. It was where I had met Grant. It was where I had conceived my daughter. But still . . . the thought of Orli so far away made me feel sad.
    I recalled the conversation earlier with my mother about CC. Here I was thinking that my mother had never done anything silly or spontaneous. But had I? Sure, I’d left home for college, but that wasn’t so remarkable. Sure, during my first few months in the dorm, I drank beer under age, took a few hits of pot, but beyond that, when was the last time I’d done anything that wasn’t responsible or practical? After having a daughter at nineteen, I’d chosen to skip those silly moments, trading them in for motherhood instead. And I wasn’t sorry. Not in the least. But now at age thirty-five, I could understand even more why CC wanted to make her moments count—no matter who didn’t agree with her.
    Orli had gone to bed and I was still sitting on the sofa knitting when the phone rang. I glanced at the clock on the mantel as I headed to the kitchen. Who would be calling at close to ten-thirty?
    I answered and was surprised to hear Ben’s voice.
    â€œJosie?” He hesitated before saying, “I’m sorry to be calling a little late, but I wanted to discuss something with you.”
    His