“I went to the Games once years ago. It’s so much fun. And the dancing!”
Emily popped out of her chair and went to her mother. “Can we go? Please? I want to see the dancers!” Besides her parents, Emily loved dancing more than anything else in her young life. She stared at Peggy, pleading with her eyes.
“I’ll talk to Daddy about it,” Peggy promised her little ballerina. “It sure would be nice to have a fun family day, as long as it’s not too expensive.”
“There’s no entrance fee,” Annie told her, “so I hope you will be able to join us.”
Gwen sighed and ran her hand lightly over her neat chignon. “I’ll be gone that weekend at some boring bank event.” She leaned toward her friends and lowered her voice. “They mean well, I’m sure, but some of these spouse events they plan are real snoozers.”
The group chuckled sympathetically, and Alice assured her, “We’ll make sure to tell you every detail, Gwen. Ian’s going too, and you know how observant he is.”
As one, the other women murmured “ohhhh!” and smiled knowingly. Blushing, Annie decided it was time to buy her yarn and get to work on the chicken sweaters.
5
A bit over a fortnight later, Alice opened the door of her carriage house to Ian’s knock with the full intention of surprising him with an energetic greeting. Instead, a wide yawn escaped in place of the hearty “Good morning” she had planned.
She clapped a hand over her mouth, and Ian grinned and said, “And good morning to you too, Alice. Would you mind a short stop at The Cup & Saucer for coffee before we head out of town?”
“If you insist,” she answered wryly, closing the door behind her and locking the deadbolt. “Haven’t you been up for at least two hours, like Annie?” She gestured toward the car where her best friend sat in the front passenger seat.
“Well, yes, now that you mention it,” Ian said as he opened the back car door for Alice. “But Tartan will be home alone again for the day, so I took him on a good long constitutional—a bit longer than I had anticipated, so coffee had to wait.”
“Your eyes are open,” Annie observed when Alice slid into the seat behind Ian. “Good for you.”
Stifling another yawn, smaller than the last, Alice replied, “Very funny, Little Miss Sunrise. We’ll see who has more energy by the end of the day.”
“The Games end at five o’clock. I think even I can stay lively until then,” Annie quipped, even though she had been in the garden as soon as the sun had sent enough light to distinguish between weed and vegetable.
Ian put the car into reverse and backed out of the carriage house driveway. “After a quick stop for coffee we’ll all have plenty of vigor to spare. Watch out, Scottish clans of the Highland Games!” he said.
A few minutes later Ian maneuvered his car into a parking space near the diner. “Three coffees to go?” he asked to confirm. Annie nodded, smiling and Alice blurted, “Absolutely! But you two might need some too.” With a laugh, Ian exited the car and strode across the sidewalk to disappear into the building.
Annie gazed out the window at the quiet street. The fish and lobster boats had been on the Gulf of Maine for hours, but the tourists had not yet filled the walkways to explore the quaint village. A lone woman in jeans and a T-shirt walking briskly toward them caught Annie’s eyes.
“Hi, Carla!” Annie rolled down the car window and called to the veterinarian and head of the animal shelter. “How are the hens doing?” She had spent the better part of the previous two weeks crocheting chicken sweaters in yellow, green, and blue yarn.
“Could be better,” Carla answered in her typical clipped manner. “Could be worse.” At the age of sixty-plus, she didn’t see the need for wasting time on what she saw as superfluous chatter.
“Have you been able to find homes for them?” Alice asked.
“A couple of farmers have stepped up, but we need one or