Never Too Late by Robyn Carr Read Free Book Online Page A

friends.
    When she walked in the house she met that wonderful noise of family making things happen in the kitchen. She spied Clare at the end of the long oak table in the large kitchen. She’d spent many an hour studying there, before and after what she’d come to refer to as the dark years. Clare was sitting on a pillow, a strained look on her face, as though she might be in pain. Sarah went straight to her, leaned down and kissed her forehead. “I’m so happy you’re home. Are you okay?”
    Clare grimaced. “My pain pill hasn’t quite kicked in yet. I’ll be okay.”
    â€œCan I get you anything?”
    â€œNo, thank you, honey.”
    Sarah went to the stove, where Maggie, George’s housekeeper, Dotty, and Maggie’s thirteen-year-old, Hillary, were surrounding a big pot. “What’s happening over here?” she asked.
    â€œStew. Aunt Clare’s request.” She lifted a spoon. “Taste?”
    â€œHmm,” she said appreciatively. “Not enough salt.”
    â€œTold you,” Hillary said to Dotty.
    Maggie slipped an arm around Sarah’s waist and kissed her cheek. “How’s the shop, sweetie?”
    â€œThe same.” She shrugged. “Fine.”
    â€œAre you losing weight?”
    â€œYou ask me that once a week.”
    â€œAre you?”
    â€œI don’t think so.” But she was, and she knew it. Thing was, she could get involved in some art project and forget to eat. She could be consumed by a bust or throw or painting. Her work didn’t bring in a lot of money, but she did have a following. And her major accomplishment of late was to have a tapestry of a towering brown bear on a snowy ledge hanging in a ski lodge in Lake Tahoe.
    But it wasn’t art that had cost her a few pounds. It was the fear and worry Clare’s accident had brought on.
    Jason came into the kitchen with a sweater for his mother, draping it around her shoulders. “Hi, Aunt Sarah,” he said.
    She smiled her greeting.
    Maggie got her girls setting the table for nine. This kind of gathering didn’t usually happen during the week, but it was a tradition to have Sunday dinner together whenever possible. While Maggie had the biggest house and Clare’s home with Roger had been larger than George’s, everyone still liked coming back here every week, cooking together, spending a few hours with family, sitting around that long oak table. A few years ago they had started having Dotty from time to time, as well; she was as much family as anyone.
    Maggie’s husband, Bob, came into the kitchen carrying two drinks. He handed one to Maggie and dropped an arm around Sarah’s shoulders. “How’s my little artsy-fartsy?”
    She merely leaned against him. Bob was so steady, dependable.
    No one had to be called. As the plates began to land on the tabletop, George appeared from the living roomwith Lindsey, and people began to take their places. Maggie and Dotty brought the stew, salad and bread. Bob poured milk into the kids’ glasses; George fetched himself a beer. There was a little scuffle between Jason and Hillary for the seat next to Clare; Jason won. Sarah could’ve gotten up and yielded hers next to her sister, but no. She wouldn’t give it up.
    Before the plates were full, someone’s cell phone chimed. Lindsey looked at her phone and said, “I have to get this,” and jumped up from the table.
    â€œâ€˜I have to get this,’” Bob repeated, humorously. “She’s fifteen.”
    â€œThere’s a guy,” Hillary said, clearly having no intention of protecting her sister’s secrets.
    â€œWhat guy?” Maggie asked.
    â€œHe’s a junior,” she said meanly. “A football player.”
    â€œChristopher Mattingly,” Jason said. “He’s gonna start next year.”
    Sarah felt herself smile. Her nieces were so gorgeous and smart, there would