Read Online Noble Pursuits by Chautona Havig - Free Book Online Page B

it too cold?” Nolan watched, concerned that his opponent was too chilled for another game.
    “We can’t quit without a winner! I want either to know I failed or to make you taste defeat. Ties are unacceptable!” Grace’s lighthearted tone gentled the fierce competitiveness of her words.
    The next game was fierce and swift. Much thought and deliberation dragged some moves out, while the next might be executed without hesitation. In the end, Nolan was victorious. “Rematch tomorrow night?”
    Grace’s smile was the only answer necessary, yet she assured him that she would be on her toes and there would be no chance of him beating her again. “I have to lose now and then so that winning is ‘worth’ it. Does that sound believable?”
    “That sounds like an excuse, Miss Buscher… and I don’t accept excuses.”
    ~*~*~*~
    Grace greeted her friends as she neared the retirement home. Couples walking to the center of town, elderly gentlemen shuffling to the park to feed the birds, and silver-haired ladies out for a bit of fresh air and gossip, waved and called out greetings as she passed. She never wondered if Aunt Fran would be inside. Aunt Fran never left. Her father’s sister’s hobby was languishing in misery in Brunswick’s finest, and only, retirement home.
    Tara Boyer shook her head and made a slicing motion across her neck as Grace entered. She squared her shoulders, held up a stack of photos of the baby, and made praying hands motions as she slipped past the reception area and headed toward Fran Bucher’s apartment. Obviously, this wasn’t a good day to visit Aunt Fran. She knew that no matter what choice she made, her aunt would be difficult. Came too soon, stayed away too long—it didn’t matter what anyone did; Aunt Fran just liked to complain.
    “Oh, it’s you. Weren’t you just here last week?” Fran whined as Grace entered.
    “I love your new color. I wasn’t sure when you showed me the paint chip, but it’s a lovely green.”
    “You just never have had an eye for color. What are you doing here?”
    Grace settled herself next to Fran and pulled out the stack of photos. Before she could share them, Fran scooted to the side. “You really need to lose some of those pounds, Grace, I feel like I’m on a teeter-totter.”
    “Well, take a look at little Graceanna. She was born on Sunday.”
    “She’s been here for nearly a week, and I’m just seeing pictures? I tell you, you and Craig don’t have the basics of courtesy anymore.”
    This was normal. One minute she was attacked for coming too often, and in nearly the next breath, she heard the whine of being forgotten and unwanted. Nothing Grace could do or say would make a difference, so she smiled and pointed out the natural dimples in Graceanna’s cheeks and chin, and the wide-eyed look they’d already captured from her.
    “Have you gotten a job yet?”
    “I already have work to do, Aunt Fran. I don’t need a job. How do you like the new exercise room?” Her deflections always failed, but she never failed to try them.
    “Listen, Grace, you need to quit playing house and take charge of your life. You have a degree for G—”
    “I don’t want to hear it. I know what I can do. I can do what everyone else does. I want to do what I want to do, and I will for as long as I can afford to do it.”
    “You’re living like a pauper.”
    Her laughter made the attendants in the hall smile. Fran was always in a better mood after Grace left. “Aunt Fran, I am a pauper.”
    “Well, quit acting like it! You are being ridiculous. You could have everything—”
    Grace stood, setting the pictures on the coffee table. “I have everything I want. I need to go. I think I’m upsetting you.”
    She leaned in, kissed her aunt’s cheek, smiled into her eyes, and said genuinely. “I love you, Aunt Fran.”
    As the door shut behind Grace, Fran Buscher crossed her arms and legs and leaned back into the comfortable couch cushions with a self-satisfied