AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“It’s great.”
“Thanks.”
She and Allie crossed paths on her way out of the room. “There’s just a few more daisies,” she said.
“Okay.” Allie disappeared onto the porch, then reappeared, daisy-laden. “These are going to be the ugliest centerpieces in the history of time,” she muttered.
Ben angled his chin at the picture. “She’s really good.”
“Yeah,” Allie agreed. “But she never believed it mattered.”
Nancy reached past him to hang up the phone. “Sorry! You don’t mind, do you?”
“It’s not a problem.”
“You need to get a cell, Mom,” Allie said as she left.
“Who needs one more phone bill?” Nancy returned to the stovetop, where a big stockpot had come to a boil. She dumped in two boxes of macaroni.
“Does she still draw?” he asked.
“Who, May?”
“Yeah.”
“She doodles. Mostly on the corners of things. Receipts, napkins. Always doodling, that girl. I used to find her drawings in the strangest places. One year, I took the pan for the Thanksgiving turkey out of storage, and there was a little drawing of a turkey inside it. He was trussed up with his head still on and a little ‘gobble gobble’ coming out of his mouth. It was the cutest thing. I still chuckle every year when I get the pan.”
The phone rang, and Ben lifted the receiver and handed it to her. Nancy smiled, answered a few questions from the other end, and hung up, shaking her head.
“Bill’s at the rental place collecting the tablecloths,” she said. “It doesn’t sound like it’s going well.”
Bill had to be May’s missing father. “Is he artistic?”
“He couldn’t draw a stick figure to save his life. I think May gets that from my side of the family. I wanted to be a sculptor. Thought I would be famous, if you can imagine that. Who’s ever heard of a famous sculptor?”
“There’s Michelangelo,” he offered. “Rodin.”
“Sure, but in the last hundred years? And a woman?” Nancy shook her head. “No, May needed to do something more practical. Something where she could have a steady income and options, you know? Not like when I was younger. My mother was always after me to focus on finding the right person to marry. That was the culture back then: get a good education, wear the right clothes, have good manners, and you’ll get the perfect man to marry you. Not that anyone said it quite that baldly, but all those jokes about going to college to get your m-r-s degree weren’t really so far off. Girls have so many more options now.”
Ben made a noncommittal sound and chopped red peppers.
“Look at that!” Nancy said a minute later, her eyes locked on the cutting board. “They’re all exactly the same size! Where did you learn to do that?”
“I’ve worked in some kitchens,” he said. “Prep cook, that kind of thing.”
“That’s such good experience. And a man who cooks—any girl would be excited by that. Do you have a girlfriend, Ben?”
He hesitated, and Nancy said quickly, “Or a boyfriend? I suppose it could be. You know, I’m never quite sure what to say these days. Ignore me if I’m being offensive.”
“No offense taken,” he said. “I’m not, ah, with anyone at the moment. Not exclusively. Anymore.” Not beyond the next few hours anyway. “I had a recent … thing that I’m still kind of hung up on.”
“Oh. That sounds rough. Was this person … was it a mutual breakup, or—”
“Long-distance,” he said. “She lived really far away.”
“That’s hard.”
“It is.”
