*
“Come on, Devin, let’s go!” Kate called when she walked out of the house.
So that is the man in love with Lisette, Kate thought. Jack didn’t say much, and Lisette didn’t say anything at all. This might be interesting to watch, if Kate and Devin were staying longer. Jack seemed kind. He was craggy and athletic, with lines like parentheses around his mouth, as if everything he wanted to say was an afterthought.
“Where are you girls going?” Bulahdeen asked, looking up from her list as Devin ran to the car.
“To the grocery store for Lisette.”
“Mind if I come along?” Bulahdeen asked. “I need to get some things for the party.”
“We don’t mind at all.”
Bulahdeen put her notebook in her purse, then stood stiffly. “Selma, we’re going to the store. I need to get more wine.”
Selma was filing her nails at the next table. “Why do you need so much wine? Doesn’t alcohol interfere with your medication?”
“I don’t take any medication.”
“That explains a lot,” Selma said, blowing emery-board dust off her fingertips.
“Come with us,” Bulahdeen said, shuffling over to her. “It’s for the party.”
“The party I’m not attending?”
“Didn’t you say you forgot to pack your hand lotion? Now’s your chance to get some.”
“Unlike you, I have my own car. I can go get lotion any time. And maybe I don’t even need it.” Selma held her hands up, inspecting them. “This wet air is good for my skin.”
Bulahdeen shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
Selma watched Bulahdeen walk to the car. As soon as Kate helped the old woman into the front seat, Selma sighed and stood. “Why do I let you talk me into these things?” she asked, as if more arm pulling had been involved. Selma walked over. “Don’t I even get the front seat?”
“No,” Bulahdeen said, closing the front door.
Selma opened the back door and looked in at Devin, who was now in the backseat. “Scoot over … girl. Let’s not wrinkle my dress.”
“I like what you’re wearing.”
“Thank you. And that’s … quite an ensemble you have on,” Selma said.
“Thank you,” Devin responded, quite proud of her ballet clothes, to which she’d added her cowboy boots and her bright pink bicycle helmet with the Pheris Wheels logo on it, which Matt had given her last year, shortly before he’d died. Devin wasn’t a bike-riding kind of kid—she said the world went by too fast to see it when she was on a bike—but she had always enjoyed being with her father. Matt hadn’t understood that. He’d been coming around in some small way when he’d given her the helmet, because he’d given it to her just to wear, just because he knew she liked it. But there hadn’t been time enough for him to fully get it.
Kate smiled at her daughter in the rearview mirror.
“Seat belts on?” Kate called to her motley crew. “Okay, let’s go.”