Ripped From the Pages

I smiled as I hung up the phone. China was a much more open, generous person than I was. Of course, I’d seen the seamier side of life and no longer had the ability to openly trust people as she did. And didn’t that make me sound like an old warhorse? I hated the thought that living in the city might’ve made me more cynical than my sisters who’d remained in the wine country.

 

Talking to China reminded me that I hadn’t been over to see Annie at her store yet. It would be easy to drop by after lunch and say hello. I’d already been to the house to use Abraham’s workshop this week, so I really needed to make the effort to see her in person and thank her.

 

China’s phone call also reminded me that I wanted to look up Josh’s credentials. Especially if he was going to go out with Annie, whom my mother considered an adopted daughter. I went online and checked the Antiquities Web site. The magazine came out bimonthly and had an extensive online presence. Josh was a senior editor and wrote several articles for each issue as well as a blog column once a week for the Web site.

 

I clicked onto a few of his articles to get an idea of his style. His personality seemed to come through in the narrative, which was completely accessible and entertaining. I wasn’t used to that in an academic journal. To compare, I checked a few of his colleagues’ works and found them much drier. They were a little more educational, but not fun at all. Some were downright boring.

 

It was good to know that Josh was exactly who he claimed to be. But I still wouldn’t rush to recommend him as a date for Annie—not that my opinion would keep China from doing so.

 

I pulled up in front of Trudy’s and saw her standing on the front porch with an attractive woman about my age. They were waiting for me, I realized, and I wondered if they’d come outside to avoid dealing with Amelia.

 

Maybe I was projecting, but I was still grateful to avoid the grumpy woman.

 

“Hi,” I said, strolling up the walkway.

 

“Oh, Brooklyn, you made it,” Trudy said, pressing a hand to her chest. Had she been nervous that I wouldn’t?

 

I took a quick glance at my wristwatch. I was right on time. Was she that anxious to get rid of Elizabeth? Or was Amelia making life difficult for her?

 

The other woman bounced down the steps and extended her arm to shake my hand. “Hi, I’m Elizabeth Trent. It’s so nice to meet you.”

 

“I’m Brooklyn Wainwright. It’s good to meet you, too.”

 

I liked her immediately because of her open smile and obvious warmth. Elizabeth Trent was just plain beautiful, with long black hair, intelligent brown eyes, and olive skin. She was my height, and she wore khaki cargo pants with a white blouse and brown flats. It was uncanny how similar our outfits were—tan jeans, white blouse, and brown flats. What were the chances?

 

I started to walk up to the porch, but Trudy waved me away. “You girls go on now. No need to stick around and keep me company.”

 

“Okay,” I said, “but I’ll stop to visit with you on the way back.”

 

“You’re a sweet peach. Now go have a good time. And thank you again, Brooklyn. I know Elizabeth will enjoy herself with you.”

 

We both waved and climbed into my car. Elizabeth gave me a look of sheer appreciation. “Thank you so much. Trudy is wonderful, but it’s nice to get out and meet people.”

 

Driving off toward the center of town, I asked, “And how’s Amelia handling things?”

 

“Oh.” Elizabeth paused. “She seems nice.”

 

I burst out laughing. “She’s a toad, but she’s a good companion for Trudy. At least, that’s what my mother keeps telling me.”

 

Elizabeth was openly relieved to hear me say what she was probably thinking. “She’s friendly enough with Trudy, but I’m definitely not one of her favorites.”

 

“Trust me. Compared to her feelings for me, she’s probably deeply in love with you.”

 

She shook her head. “I seriously doubt it.”

 

“Oh, Amelia has no favorites. Ever. About anything or anybody.” We shared a few Amelia stories, and by the time we reached the Lane and parked, we were laughing like old friends.

 

As we walked down the sidewalk, I pointed out spots of interest, such as the park surrounding the town hall at the end of the Lane, the in-town tasting rooms for some of the local wineries, and a few of the better restaurants, notably, my sister’s Arugula.

 

Elizabeth gazed into each of the store windows as we passed and finally stopped to look at the items on display in the pottery shop window. “I’m going to have to devote an entire day to shopping. These stores are calling my name.”

 

“They do that to me, too.”

 

“The whole town is so pretty.” She pointed to the row of shops across the street, one of which was China’s Warped. “I love the vines growing on the buildings and all the old stone and brick facades. It’s got a real old-world charm.”

 

“I agree. If you have time after lunch, I thought we’d go over to the town hall, and I’ll show you our new exhibit.”

 

“I’d like to see it.”

 

We walked past another few stores and stopped at the corner. “We’re going to lunch across the street. I hope you like Mexican food.”

 

“I love it,” she said. “I can’t get decent Mexican food where I live.”

 

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