settle. We’ve been reassessing.”
“I haven’t settled!”
“Easy to say.” She smiled a familiar self-satisfied smile and finished her coffee as Allie made faces at Charlie suggesting she disengage. “Bea’s right. Evan isn’t strong enough to hold for long,” she said, putting her mug down.
The aunties didn’t bother with graceful segues.
“There will be challenges. Multiple challenges. We’ll have to tell the county we’re extending the family plot—Ruby’s talking dahlias. Things will be topsy-turvy for a while.”
“Topsy-turvy?”
“Jane again. Remind me to fight that. The point is, we’re looking at uncertain weather patterns, more boys being born, cakes not rising, unnaturally tough pastry, and cabbages shaped like Elvis.”
“Elvis? Seriously?”
“Oh, for pity’s sake, Charlotte, why would we get cabbages shaped like Elvis?” She stood and stretched, her shirt riding up enough to show a bruise just above her hip and a scrape rising up from the blotch of purple-green.
Charlie scratched at the buzzing under her left forearm and showed teeth in what wasn’t even trying to be a smile. “So, since you couldn’t go home, what were you hunting last night, Auntie Gwen?”
“None of your business, Charlotte. Alysha, you’ll need to cover the store. Joe’s leaving.”
Allie paused, about to remove the rejected pancakes. “Auntie Gwen, we talked about this. He’s my employee.”
“And he’s my . . .”
“Never mind.” When Allie cut her off, Charlie nearly applauded. Auntie Gwen’s descriptions of what Joe was to her made it difficult to look Joe in the eye. And Gales weren’t exactly shy. “I’ll be right down.”
“Good.” She paused at the door and swept a dark gaze over both of them. “There’s a chance Jane engineered this whole thing because she’s afraid Catherine might decide to spend some time at home. Your grandmother always had a frightening amount of influence on your grandfather. The last thing we need is a Wild Power playing at being domestic.”
“Worked out the last time,” Allie muttered at the closed door.
“She wasn’t talking about your grandmother.” The buzzing under Charlie skin revved up.
“Yes, she was. She said . . .”
“She meant me. She thinks I’ve settled.”
Allie smiled, the curve of her mouth an invitation. “Would that be so bad?”
Before Charlie could respond in a way that wouldn’t get her cut off—the sofa bed was a choice not a necessity—she remembered Auntie Catherine’s call. “So, a funny thing happened . . .”
“It could be a coincidence,” Allie allowed a few minutes later, leading the way downstairs.
Charlie snorted. “We don’t believe in coincidence.”
Their reflection showed them joined at the hip.
“Still not double-jointed,” Charlie muttered as they passed.
The store was empty, the door was locked, and there was a note from Joe on the counter. “I sold a yoyo. We’re going to need another box of rhinestone p . . .” The shape of the “p” suggested Auntie Gwen had waited as long as she intended to.
“So . . .” Allie unlocked the door, flipped the sign, and turned to stare measuringly at Charlie. Charlie had no idea what was being measured but had a funny feeling she was coming up short. “Are you going to take the apartment over the coffee shop? It wouldn’t be hard to put in a connecting door.”
Charlie clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering as the buzz reached a crescendo. Before she could answer, before she knew what she was going to answer, her phone ran. “Looks like things are getting back to normal,” she muttered digging it out of the pocket of her shorts. Normal in the Gale family wasn’t over twenty-four hours of phone silence.
“Hey, Chuck! Got a minute?”
“Mark?” It’s Mark , she mouthed at Allie who mouthed back no shit as Charlie moved in between two sets of shelves and made herself comfortable. Back before Calgary, and Dun Good , she
“I haven’t settled!”
“Easy to say.” She smiled a familiar self-satisfied smile and finished her coffee as Allie made faces at Charlie suggesting she disengage. “Bea’s right. Evan isn’t strong enough to hold for long,” she said, putting her mug down.
The aunties didn’t bother with graceful segues.
“There will be challenges. Multiple challenges. We’ll have to tell the county we’re extending the family plot—Ruby’s talking dahlias. Things will be topsy-turvy for a while.”
“Topsy-turvy?”
“Jane again. Remind me to fight that. The point is, we’re looking at uncertain weather patterns, more boys being born, cakes not rising, unnaturally tough pastry, and cabbages shaped like Elvis.”
“Elvis? Seriously?”
“Oh, for pity’s sake, Charlotte, why would we get cabbages shaped like Elvis?” She stood and stretched, her shirt riding up enough to show a bruise just above her hip and a scrape rising up from the blotch of purple-green.
Charlie scratched at the buzzing under her left forearm and showed teeth in what wasn’t even trying to be a smile. “So, since you couldn’t go home, what were you hunting last night, Auntie Gwen?”
“None of your business, Charlotte. Alysha, you’ll need to cover the store. Joe’s leaving.”
Allie paused, about to remove the rejected pancakes. “Auntie Gwen, we talked about this. He’s my employee.”
“And he’s my . . .”
“Never mind.” When Allie cut her off, Charlie nearly applauded. Auntie Gwen’s descriptions of what Joe was to her made it difficult to look Joe in the eye. And Gales weren’t exactly shy. “I’ll be right down.”
“Good.” She paused at the door and swept a dark gaze over both of them. “There’s a chance Jane engineered this whole thing because she’s afraid Catherine might decide to spend some time at home. Your grandmother always had a frightening amount of influence on your grandfather. The last thing we need is a Wild Power playing at being domestic.”
“Worked out the last time,” Allie muttered at the closed door.
“She wasn’t talking about your grandmother.” The buzzing under Charlie skin revved up.
“Yes, she was. She said . . .”
“She meant me. She thinks I’ve settled.”
Allie smiled, the curve of her mouth an invitation. “Would that be so bad?”
Before Charlie could respond in a way that wouldn’t get her cut off—the sofa bed was a choice not a necessity—she remembered Auntie Catherine’s call. “So, a funny thing happened . . .”
“It could be a coincidence,” Allie allowed a few minutes later, leading the way downstairs.
Charlie snorted. “We don’t believe in coincidence.”
Their reflection showed them joined at the hip.
“Still not double-jointed,” Charlie muttered as they passed.
The store was empty, the door was locked, and there was a note from Joe on the counter. “I sold a yoyo. We’re going to need another box of rhinestone p . . .” The shape of the “p” suggested Auntie Gwen had waited as long as she intended to.
“So . . .” Allie unlocked the door, flipped the sign, and turned to stare measuringly at Charlie. Charlie had no idea what was being measured but had a funny feeling she was coming up short. “Are you going to take the apartment over the coffee shop? It wouldn’t be hard to put in a connecting door.”
Charlie clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering as the buzz reached a crescendo. Before she could answer, before she knew what she was going to answer, her phone ran. “Looks like things are getting back to normal,” she muttered digging it out of the pocket of her shorts. Normal in the Gale family wasn’t over twenty-four hours of phone silence.
“Hey, Chuck! Got a minute?”
“Mark?” It’s Mark , she mouthed at Allie who mouthed back no shit as Charlie moved in between two sets of shelves and made herself comfortable. Back before Calgary, and Dun Good , she
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