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“Good morning, Reese,” Kathleen Torrence, the front-desk receptionist, greeted her, breaking her out of her thoughts about Trent.
Kathleen was a spunky brunette who had gone to school with Reese’s mother. Kathleen’s mother was living at Bay’s Edge, and every time Reese walked through the doors, she couldn’t help but wonder if one day she’d be visiting her own parents there. It was the only assisted living facility on the island, and it had a stellar reputation for treating the residents on all levels—mental, physical, and emotional.
“How’s your mom today?”
Kathleen put her hand out and wiggled it from side to side. “Fair to middling. Thanks for asking.”
Reese tightened her grip on the heavy bag on the verge of slipping out of her hands, and Kathleen said, “You’d better go put that bag down. Looks heavier than usual. And watch out for the Rickenbachers. They were in rare form at breakfast,” Kathleen called after her.
Reese grinned as she headed into the arts and crafts room. The Rickenbachers were in their late eighties, but they acted like teenagers, so openly frisky with each other.
They reminded her of how she and Trent used to be.
Used to be?
Last night when he’d walked into the Hideaway looking like sex on legs, the room had heated up about a hundred degrees. Especially when he’d looked at her the way he used to. The way that made her heart melt and her insides rev up. All she’d wanted was to pull him into a back hallway and devour him in one big, delicious gulp.
The bag dropped from her fingers, and paintbrushes scattered across the floor. “Darn it.” But when she turned to set down the box of paints, she missed the edge of the counter, sending them scattering, too.
“My, oh my, missy. You sure are flustered today, aren’t you?” Tilly Carlson said as she walked into the room toward Reese.
Reese looked up at the elderly black woman who was smiling down at her and realized she’d forgotten to bring the book she’d promised to loan her. “A little flustered, yes. And unfortunately, I forgot your book, too. But I’ll bring it later. I promise. How are you doing today, Tilly?”
Tilly always took the time to put on makeup in the mornings and style her short hair, which she wore pushed back from her face with a pretty fabric headband. Even mapped with wrinkles, Tilly’s skin looked soft and youthful, despite her advanced age. When she’d first joined Reese’s class two years ago, she’d told Reese that the key to good skin was a smile.
Glancing down at her walker, Tilly said, “Every day I can still push this baby around is a good day.”
Reese put the paints back in the box. “You look nice today. Is that a new outfit?”
Tilly lowered herself into a chair, then smoothed the brown zip-up jacket she wore over a flowered shirt. “You don’t think it’s tacky, do you? I’m not used to wearing tracksuits.”
“A beautiful woman like you could never look tacky,” Morris Rickenbacker said as he came into the room with his wife, Norma.
Tilly rolled her eyes. “You’re such a flirt.”
“That he is,” Norma said, leaning over to peck her husband’s cheek. Her gray hair was brushed away from her face in a layered style. She had a slight overbite, and always looked like she was smiling. She stopped just short of Reese, who was still gathering the brushes from the floor. “Goodness, Reese. What happened?”
Reese put the last brush in the box, hoisted it to the counter, then pinned a picture of an oak tree to the corkboard on the wall. “Just a little mishap. How are you this morning, Norma? Morris?”
“I feel so good, I think I’m growing hair.” Morris rubbed his palm over his bald head.
“You wish, sweetie.” Norma sat at a table. “That’s a wonderful outfit, Tilly. Did your daughter send that to you from Los Angeles?”
After Tilly nodded, Reese asked, “Is she going to make it up to visit before winter?” Tilly’s daughter rarely visited, unfortunately.
“I think that’s why she sent the outfit, to let me down easy. She’s writing a screenplay and apparently it’s an all-day, every-day endeavor.” Tilly’s voice was thick with disappointment.
“I still say you should tell her to get her butt up here,” Morris said. “She hasn’t visited you in months.”
“Morris. That’s enough. You’re going to make her feel bad,” Norma chided him.
“I’m sorry, Tilly,” Reese said as she began laying out the supplies for the class. “I’m sure she misses you.”
“She’s got a man now, and I know what love does to a woman’s head. I miss my daughter, but not like I miss my Ritchie.” Tilly passed a paintbrush to Norma. “He was my first and only true love.”
“You’ll see him again,” Norma said, patting Tilly’s hand.
“Norma was my first love,” Morris said.
