infatuated to look at anyone else,” he said. But his eyes were soft and deep with worry and devotion. Sue watched him drive away and discovered her own eyes were moist. The courage of those two as they faced the end of their lives never failed to move her. Though Sue loved them, she could never see them without a pang of loss for her beloved Peter.
She went back inside, placed the order on Ginny’s desk, and returned to the job she had so eagerly abandoned half an hour earlier. An assortment of aquarium gravel sat in plastic bags on the worktable downstairs. While she was working with the Costas, Elsie had cut the mats Sunny had finally decided on and mounted the print as well. It lay next to the bags of bright-colored gravel, along with a tub of tile grout.
“Thanks, Elsie,” Sue began. “I guess I have to get on with it, don’t I?”
“I’ll do it, if you want,” Elsie offered without any enthusiasm whatsoever.
Sue would have loved to accept the offer, but Sunny had asked specifically for her to do it. Where had Sunny come up with the zany idea to glue colored bits of stone to the driftwood frame? Well, at least Sunny had given up demanding she paint or dye the beach stones. Now she just wanted them nestled amid the gravel.
Sue sighed before she dug into the grout and applied it to the frame. The driftwood was the only good part of the package, and now it would be covered with neon shades of stone chips. Well, the customer was always right. Wasn’t she?
An hour and a half later, she straightened her stiff back and studied her creation. Elsie cast dubious eyes at it, too. The two friends burst into laughter. “It’s not really that bad, is it, Elsie?” Sue pleaded.
Elsie shook her head. “No. It’s worse. But that’s Sunny. She’ll love it.”
“What do you think? Should we make up a bunch of these to sell? I bet the world is just crying out for frames like this. Don’t you think they’d fly out of here?”
“Oh, sure. On the business end of Ginny’s broom!”
When they had finished their chuckle over that idea, they stored the embellished frame on a metal shelf to protect it from accidental bumps. By then it was time to close up the shop, so they put away their tools, shut down the computerized mat cutter, and turned off the air compressors before locking up.
“Have fun with the dog tomorrow,” Sue said as they got into their cars.
Chapter Ten
Maculato needed a serious workout, Elsie decided. The dog was just beginning his second year, and after having been cooped up all winter, he was so giddy at getting outside into the lovely spring weather that he couldn’t decide whether to chase his tail or hightail it into the woods. To tell the truth, Elsie was just as glad to have an excuse to get out of the house on her day off. She called an acquaintance to ask for permission to train the dog on his land. The permission duly given, she sprayed herself and Mac against the ubiquitous bugs, put him into the truck, and drove west toward Temple Mountain.
Just before the top of the pass, she took a right turn and headed north along a winding road bordered by thick woods, which were broken only by the occasional house. Most of them were new construction, with wide lawns and curving, paved driveways carved out of the forest. These houses had no actual residents; the owners were away from dawn to dusk at their jobs in Boston or Worcester. Sometimes they even lived in New York City from Sunday night to Friday evening, returning to spend the weekend in their oversized, overpriced mansions. Elsie much preferred the cramped old house she shared with Frank, despite its problematic wiring and its century of history, to these new-fangled bloats of modernity.
Never mind that. She counted three driveways beyond the amazingly pink house with the three-car garage, and then watched for the break in the stone wall on the left side of the road. She pulled into it, careful to angle the truck so its sides didn’t
She went back inside, placed the order on Ginny’s desk, and returned to the job she had so eagerly abandoned half an hour earlier. An assortment of aquarium gravel sat in plastic bags on the worktable downstairs. While she was working with the Costas, Elsie had cut the mats Sunny had finally decided on and mounted the print as well. It lay next to the bags of bright-colored gravel, along with a tub of tile grout.
“Thanks, Elsie,” Sue began. “I guess I have to get on with it, don’t I?”
“I’ll do it, if you want,” Elsie offered without any enthusiasm whatsoever.
Sue would have loved to accept the offer, but Sunny had asked specifically for her to do it. Where had Sunny come up with the zany idea to glue colored bits of stone to the driftwood frame? Well, at least Sunny had given up demanding she paint or dye the beach stones. Now she just wanted them nestled amid the gravel.
Sue sighed before she dug into the grout and applied it to the frame. The driftwood was the only good part of the package, and now it would be covered with neon shades of stone chips. Well, the customer was always right. Wasn’t she?
An hour and a half later, she straightened her stiff back and studied her creation. Elsie cast dubious eyes at it, too. The two friends burst into laughter. “It’s not really that bad, is it, Elsie?” Sue pleaded.
Elsie shook her head. “No. It’s worse. But that’s Sunny. She’ll love it.”
“What do you think? Should we make up a bunch of these to sell? I bet the world is just crying out for frames like this. Don’t you think they’d fly out of here?”
“Oh, sure. On the business end of Ginny’s broom!”
When they had finished their chuckle over that idea, they stored the embellished frame on a metal shelf to protect it from accidental bumps. By then it was time to close up the shop, so they put away their tools, shut down the computerized mat cutter, and turned off the air compressors before locking up.
“Have fun with the dog tomorrow,” Sue said as they got into their cars.
Chapter Ten
Maculato needed a serious workout, Elsie decided. The dog was just beginning his second year, and after having been cooped up all winter, he was so giddy at getting outside into the lovely spring weather that he couldn’t decide whether to chase his tail or hightail it into the woods. To tell the truth, Elsie was just as glad to have an excuse to get out of the house on her day off. She called an acquaintance to ask for permission to train the dog on his land. The permission duly given, she sprayed herself and Mac against the ubiquitous bugs, put him into the truck, and drove west toward Temple Mountain.
Just before the top of the pass, she took a right turn and headed north along a winding road bordered by thick woods, which were broken only by the occasional house. Most of them were new construction, with wide lawns and curving, paved driveways carved out of the forest. These houses had no actual residents; the owners were away from dawn to dusk at their jobs in Boston or Worcester. Sometimes they even lived in New York City from Sunday night to Friday evening, returning to spend the weekend in their oversized, overpriced mansions. Elsie much preferred the cramped old house she shared with Frank, despite its problematic wiring and its century of history, to these new-fangled bloats of modernity.
Never mind that. She counted three driveways beyond the amazingly pink house with the three-car garage, and then watched for the break in the stone wall on the left side of the road. She pulled into it, careful to angle the truck so its sides didn’t
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