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Authors: D. Savannah George
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it right this time,” said Annie. “I don’t need any of your bad baking vibes to rub off on me—not to mention what our friends will say. Though to be honest, I wish we’d recorded the looks on their faces last week. The horror! The disgust! In Stella’s case—the how-in-the-world-do-I-maintain-my-dignity look!”
“You just wish my excellent baking skills would rub off on you,” Alice said, punching her friend lightly in the arm. “There. That should do it.”
“I’m not sure I really want it after last week,” Annie said, brushing at her arm.
All the parking spots near A Stitch in Time were full, so Annie obligingly stopped to let Alice out near the door and drove down the street in search of a space. She found one in front of Finer Things, parked, and leaned into the backseat to retrieve her purse and tote bag. Alice had taken the Tupperware and plastic bag, but left her own tote and purse behind.
“Of course, Alice’s purse would be on the other side of the car,” Annie grumbled; she practically had to crawl inside to grab it.
“Hi, Annie!” she heard a familiar voice say as she scooted backward to get out, clutching Alice’s purse and bag and her own belongings.
When she stood up, Ian Butler, Stony Point’s handsome mayor, stood on the other side of the door, grinning at her. She felt her ears turn red, imagining the sight of her backside sticking out of the car, but thankful it was at least clad in a nice pair of jeans, as opposed to the shapeless khakis she’d worn the previous week.
“Oh! Hi, Ian,” she stammered. “How are you?”
“I’m well, and you?” His polite answer belied the mischievous look on his face.
“Just grabbing Alice’s things to take to the Hook and Needle Club meeting. The injury to her ankle has apparently spread to her arms as well.”
Ian laughed. “That’s our Alice for you.”
“Indeed. I’d say she didn’t care about others, but we know that’s not true. She’s just very dramatic—and occasionally forgetful.” Annie paused. “Sorry, but I’ve got to run. I’m late for the meeting.”
“What are you doing afterwards?” asked Ian. “Care to join me at The Cup & Saucer for lunch?”
“Why, yes. I’d love to,” Annie replied without thinking.
“See you in about an hour, then.” He smiled and headed across the street toward Town Hall.
Annie watched him walk away and noted that he was attractive from the front and the back. Then she chided herself for even thinking such thoughts about the man. Ian was just a friend, nothing more. Or was he? They had gone on a few dates, but lunch at The Cup & Saucer wouldn’t count as a date. A date would be at Maplehurst Inn or Lilia’s Tea House. But The Cup & Saucer? That would be just two friends eating lunch together. Right?
Who was Annie kidding? She glanced at Ian again, now headed through the front doors of Town Hall. She knew—spoken or unspoken—that they were becoming more than “just friends.”
Annie finally shook off her thoughts of Ian and walked to the corner of Oak Lane and Main Street and across to A Stitch in Time. The meeting was in full swing when she walked in the door. Her friends sat in their favorite spots and worked away on their various pieces, chatting away and eating cookies. Annie stuffed her scarf and gloves into the pockets of her coat, took it off, and hung it on the rack. She found an empty chair and plunked down in it, placing all of the various bags on the floor next to her feet.
“Alice, you left your tote and your purse in my car,” she called, pulling out her yarn and crochet hook.
“I knew you’d bring them in for me,” her friend responded. “Care to try a cookie? As you can tell, these turned out perfect!”
“They really did,” said Kate. “These are probably the best cookies I’ve ever eaten. And those came from the same mysterious cache of recipes as that dish from last week? Amazing!”
The other ladies murmured in agreement.
“They
“You just wish my excellent baking skills would rub off on you,” Alice said, punching her friend lightly in the arm. “There. That should do it.”
“I’m not sure I really want it after last week,” Annie said, brushing at her arm.
All the parking spots near A Stitch in Time were full, so Annie obligingly stopped to let Alice out near the door and drove down the street in search of a space. She found one in front of Finer Things, parked, and leaned into the backseat to retrieve her purse and tote bag. Alice had taken the Tupperware and plastic bag, but left her own tote and purse behind.
“Of course, Alice’s purse would be on the other side of the car,” Annie grumbled; she practically had to crawl inside to grab it.
“Hi, Annie!” she heard a familiar voice say as she scooted backward to get out, clutching Alice’s purse and bag and her own belongings.
When she stood up, Ian Butler, Stony Point’s handsome mayor, stood on the other side of the door, grinning at her. She felt her ears turn red, imagining the sight of her backside sticking out of the car, but thankful it was at least clad in a nice pair of jeans, as opposed to the shapeless khakis she’d worn the previous week.
“Oh! Hi, Ian,” she stammered. “How are you?”
“I’m well, and you?” His polite answer belied the mischievous look on his face.
“Just grabbing Alice’s things to take to the Hook and Needle Club meeting. The injury to her ankle has apparently spread to her arms as well.”
Ian laughed. “That’s our Alice for you.”
“Indeed. I’d say she didn’t care about others, but we know that’s not true. She’s just very dramatic—and occasionally forgetful.” Annie paused. “Sorry, but I’ve got to run. I’m late for the meeting.”
“What are you doing afterwards?” asked Ian. “Care to join me at The Cup & Saucer for lunch?”
“Why, yes. I’d love to,” Annie replied without thinking.
“See you in about an hour, then.” He smiled and headed across the street toward Town Hall.
Annie watched him walk away and noted that he was attractive from the front and the back. Then she chided herself for even thinking such thoughts about the man. Ian was just a friend, nothing more. Or was he? They had gone on a few dates, but lunch at The Cup & Saucer wouldn’t count as a date. A date would be at Maplehurst Inn or Lilia’s Tea House. But The Cup & Saucer? That would be just two friends eating lunch together. Right?
Who was Annie kidding? She glanced at Ian again, now headed through the front doors of Town Hall. She knew—spoken or unspoken—that they were becoming more than “just friends.”
Annie finally shook off her thoughts of Ian and walked to the corner of Oak Lane and Main Street and across to A Stitch in Time. The meeting was in full swing when she walked in the door. Her friends sat in their favorite spots and worked away on their various pieces, chatting away and eating cookies. Annie stuffed her scarf and gloves into the pockets of her coat, took it off, and hung it on the rack. She found an empty chair and plunked down in it, placing all of the various bags on the floor next to her feet.
“Alice, you left your tote and your purse in my car,” she called, pulling out her yarn and crochet hook.
“I knew you’d bring them in for me,” her friend responded. “Care to try a cookie? As you can tell, these turned out perfect!”
“They really did,” said Kate. “These are probably the best cookies I’ve ever eaten. And those came from the same mysterious cache of recipes as that dish from last week? Amazing!”
The other ladies murmured in agreement.
“They
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