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My head jerks up. My stomach drops.
Is that . . . ?
“Ellie?” Grandma calls up. “You have company.”
I straighten up, dust off my clothes, then pad out into the hall and peer over the banister. Clara Marshall looks up at me with a smile, holding up my fuzzy slippers.
She’s as stylish as ever in a blue-fringed drape over a shimmery white silk top, loose, embroidered chiffon ivory pants, and slim blue strappy heels.
“I washed these for you, Elle,” she says warmly. “I thought you’d need them back.”
I could burst into tears at the sight of her.
Despite everything, I still respect Clara Marshall so much, and it’s good to just see her and know she’s okay.
But it also stings that she’s the one who’s brought my slippers.
Not August.
I smile anyway and head downstairs, taking them gratefully.
“Thank you. How are you ...” I fumble awkwardly. “Are you okay?”
“Oh, you know how these things go,” she deflects. There’s something troubled behind her eyes. “I’ve been very busy. I’ve certainly missed your help.”
“Oh—I’m so sorry, I just—you know, I thought after everything ...” I scuff my feet, looking down. “I thought I was sorta fired.”
There’s an awkward pause that Gran fills with a clap of her hands. “Well now! This is tea conversation.”
I smile.
Clara hesitates. “I’m afraid I don’t have much time ...”
“Nonsense. There’s always time for tea.” Gran taps Clara’s arm lightly. “Do come with me. I’m so delighted to finally meet you, Miss Marshall. Elle talks about you nonstop.”
“Grandma!” I hiss.
Clara gives me a patiently amused look and follows Gran inside.
“Well, I’m quite flattered, but I must say I can’t stop talking about this wonderful young lady too. She’s a darling—kind, lovely to be around, and such a help to me. Not to mention how brilliantly talented she is.”
“Clara!” I gasp, going red up to my ears.
Oh my God, are the older women in my life all trying to kill me today?
Gran and Clara trade wickedly amused looks.
“My,” Gran says mildly. “That’s a lovely shade of pink on her, isn’t it? Really complements her complexion.”
“Absolutely,” Clara answers. “She should wear that color more often.”
Mortifying.
I glower at them both while they descend into casual chatter like they’ve known each other their whole lives. Clara compliments the vines and ferns that have practically taken over the house.
Gran enthusiastically explains how she cultivates outdoor flowering vines to thrive inside. It saves me from more embarrassment, at least, as I set my slippers aside and help Gran to put tea on.
It’s jasmine today. The weather’s getting a little warmer, and jasmine tea is always good in spring.
