The Wedding Tree by Robin Wells Page A

like, “Let’s make little teddy bear togas.” She’d always been willing to laugh at my lame attempts at humor, always been ready with a quick comeback, always been able to crack me up with a witty observation. Playful banter, I think it’s called—that’s another thing I miss about her. How long would I keep discovering new things I missed?
    Or rediscovering old ones. My thoughts flicked to the woman next door.
    â€œLet’s go to the real zoo this weekend,” Zoey said, cramming a toy zebra onto the dollhouse potty.
    I sat down cross-legged on the floor beside them. “Okay.” We had a family membership to the Audubon Zoo, the Aquarium of the Americas, and the Insectarium in New Orleans, and when we’d lived there, the girls and I were frequent visitors.
    â€œAunt Jillian said she hasn’t been to the zoo since she was a teenager,” Zoey said. “She can’t wait to see the monkeys.”
    Wait—the “we” included Jillian? My enthusiasm tanked. “How about just the three of us go?”
    Zoey’s jaw jutted out. “I want Aunt Jillian to come, too. She said she could.”
    Once again, plans had been set in motion without my knowledge or consent. I stifled a sigh, reminding myself that I’d moved here so that the girls would have a sense of family. Looking at them now, I had to say it was a good decision. They were both thriving; they slept through the night now, their appetites were good, and neither one had thrown a tantrum in months.
    It was only natural that they’d grow attached to Jillian; she was their aunt, and she loved them. It was wrong of me to deprive them of her company just because I was a little paranoid. “Okay,” I said. “The more, the merrier. Let’s see if Grandpop and Gramma can come, too.” Having the in-laws along would defuse the Jillian factor.
    â€œWahoo!” exclaimed Zoey. She jumped to her feet and headed for the kitchen. “Aunt Jillian!” she called. “We’re all gonna go to the zoo!”
    Sophie looked up at me. “Can the tooth fairy granddaughter lady come, too?”
    The image of the brunette next door flashed in my brain like neon. “I, uh, think she’ll need to stay and take care of her grandmother.”
    â€œWe could ask her.”
    â€œWe don’t know her well enough to invite her out like that.” Although it would certainly make things a lot more interesting from my perspective.
    â€œIf she went with us, we’d get to know her better.”
    I ruffled Sophie’s hair. “She’s just visiting. I don’t think she’ll be in town very long.”
    I wondered just how long she planned to stay in Wedding Tree. I wondered what she did for a living and where she lived.
    I wondered why I was wondering all these things about a woman I’d barely met.
    I thought about the way she’d filled out that sparkly sheer gown, and I immediately knew the answer. I unwound my legs and rose. “Come on, sport. We’d better wash up for dinner.”
    And while I was at it, I’d better clean up my thoughts, as well.

5

    adelaide
    THE FOLLOWING MONDAY
    W atch your head, Mom.” Eddie cushioned the top of my noggin with his hand as if I’d never gotten into an automobile before—when the fact is, I’d ridden in enough cars to fill an antique road show, starting with my granddaddy’s Model T.
    Of course, that’s what I was now. An antique.
    One thing those old cars had going for them—you didn’t have to fuss with that ridiculous strap contraption Eddie was easing over my head and clicking across my lap. What the heck was that annoying thing called? I can’t remember. I can remember the license plate of our family car back in 1939—122-147—but I can’t remember the name of this silly restraint device. It’s sad to remember just enough to know how much you’re