taking the opportunity to move his arm and turned his attention to Doris Peters on his left. “How did you come to settle here?”
Doris swallowed. “We fell in love with this part of Texas when our son was doing his intern work at McDonald Observatory. After James retired, we decided to build on a small plot of land we had bought back then.”
Refusing to be ignored, Valerie spoke to Mattie Lou. “I was hoping that handsome therapist would be here tonight. Didn’t you say he was working with Casey?”
Mattie said, “I invited him and his sister and Casey, but he declined, saying Casey was not ready to be at a social function yet.”
Valerie let out little giggle. “I always enjoyed his company when he was taking care of J.D.” In her next breath, she added, “I do hope Casey will be at the festival. She’s been the community celebrity for so long, everyone is eager to see her.”
Anger boiled up in Tres. “Dr. Newton will have to give his approval before Casey will be out and about.”
Valerie’s frown of concern didn’t quite come across as sincere. “Is it really true, her injury did permanent brain damage?”
Mattie Lou replied. “I feel uncomfortable discussing Casey in her absence. Besides, we haven’t heard about Janelle’s trip to Scotland for her clan’s gathering.” Looking toward Janelle, she asked, “How long had it been since you had a gathering?”
Janelle, an old-hand at smoothing social situations, answered with an exaggerated Scottish burr, making everyone laugh for the next few minutes while Lara served the entrée of succulent steak, new potatoes, baby carrots, and green beans.
As Tres cut into his steak, he wondered if Casey was enjoying her meal. He remembered as a lanky thirteen-year-old, she’d consumed as much food as a grown man and had stayed skinny as a rail.
When the after-dinner coffee was served, the conversation turned to serious planning for the festival. Tres retreated to the office where he retrieved the dog blanket from the closet and a box of dog treats shelved among the books, still there from J.D.’s time.
He found Casey and Brad sitting on the floor of her suite. Brad had modeling clay in his hands that he was squeezing and shaping. Casey had clay, shaped like a piece of steak on a paper plate, trying to cut it. The knife slipped out of her hand. In exasperation, she threw the fork down. “I won’t ever get to go to a real dinner party, will I?”
Tres heard Brad’s confident, reassuring tone as he quieted her distress. “Of course you will. You just have to practice. Your hands have forgotten how to do what your brain tells them to do.” Picking up the silverware, he scooted up to her back, reached his arms around her, and properly positioned the utensils in her hands once again. “Let me help you cut a piece or two, then you can try by yourself.”
Tres knew Brad’s actions were done professionally, but he bristled anyway. Their closeness troubled him.
After two successful cuts, Casey said, “Now, let me do it by myself.” Laboriously, she sawed on the clay, slicing ragged-looking chunks off until it was in pieces.
Brad put the clay he had been shaping on the plate and picked up the cut-up bits. Once again, Casey went to work, cutting with more accuracy. When she finished, Brad said, “Let’s give the clay a rest. We’ll practice some more tomorrow.”
Knowing the session of learning was over, Tres knocked on the open door where he stood before stepping into the room. “I found a blanket and a box of dog treats in J.D.’s office. They must belong to Ula.”
He sat down, Indian-style, on the floor, the three of them forming an arc. He handed Casey the items. “What are you doing?”
Casey looked serious. “I’m learning to cut steak, so I can go to a dinner party. It’s really hard to do, but Brad said if I practice, it will get easy.”
Vera appeared at the kitchenette door. “I have decaf ready, if anybody wants some to go
Doris swallowed. “We fell in love with this part of Texas when our son was doing his intern work at McDonald Observatory. After James retired, we decided to build on a small plot of land we had bought back then.”
Refusing to be ignored, Valerie spoke to Mattie Lou. “I was hoping that handsome therapist would be here tonight. Didn’t you say he was working with Casey?”
Mattie said, “I invited him and his sister and Casey, but he declined, saying Casey was not ready to be at a social function yet.”
Valerie let out little giggle. “I always enjoyed his company when he was taking care of J.D.” In her next breath, she added, “I do hope Casey will be at the festival. She’s been the community celebrity for so long, everyone is eager to see her.”
Anger boiled up in Tres. “Dr. Newton will have to give his approval before Casey will be out and about.”
Valerie’s frown of concern didn’t quite come across as sincere. “Is it really true, her injury did permanent brain damage?”
Mattie Lou replied. “I feel uncomfortable discussing Casey in her absence. Besides, we haven’t heard about Janelle’s trip to Scotland for her clan’s gathering.” Looking toward Janelle, she asked, “How long had it been since you had a gathering?”
Janelle, an old-hand at smoothing social situations, answered with an exaggerated Scottish burr, making everyone laugh for the next few minutes while Lara served the entrée of succulent steak, new potatoes, baby carrots, and green beans.
As Tres cut into his steak, he wondered if Casey was enjoying her meal. He remembered as a lanky thirteen-year-old, she’d consumed as much food as a grown man and had stayed skinny as a rail.
When the after-dinner coffee was served, the conversation turned to serious planning for the festival. Tres retreated to the office where he retrieved the dog blanket from the closet and a box of dog treats shelved among the books, still there from J.D.’s time.
He found Casey and Brad sitting on the floor of her suite. Brad had modeling clay in his hands that he was squeezing and shaping. Casey had clay, shaped like a piece of steak on a paper plate, trying to cut it. The knife slipped out of her hand. In exasperation, she threw the fork down. “I won’t ever get to go to a real dinner party, will I?”
Tres heard Brad’s confident, reassuring tone as he quieted her distress. “Of course you will. You just have to practice. Your hands have forgotten how to do what your brain tells them to do.” Picking up the silverware, he scooted up to her back, reached his arms around her, and properly positioned the utensils in her hands once again. “Let me help you cut a piece or two, then you can try by yourself.”
Tres knew Brad’s actions were done professionally, but he bristled anyway. Their closeness troubled him.
After two successful cuts, Casey said, “Now, let me do it by myself.” Laboriously, she sawed on the clay, slicing ragged-looking chunks off until it was in pieces.
Brad put the clay he had been shaping on the plate and picked up the cut-up bits. Once again, Casey went to work, cutting with more accuracy. When she finished, Brad said, “Let’s give the clay a rest. We’ll practice some more tomorrow.”
Knowing the session of learning was over, Tres knocked on the open door where he stood before stepping into the room. “I found a blanket and a box of dog treats in J.D.’s office. They must belong to Ula.”
He sat down, Indian-style, on the floor, the three of them forming an arc. He handed Casey the items. “What are you doing?”
Casey looked serious. “I’m learning to cut steak, so I can go to a dinner party. It’s really hard to do, but Brad said if I practice, it will get easy.”
Vera appeared at the kitchenette door. “I have decaf ready, if anybody wants some to go
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