Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
J oyce set her purse in its usual spot on the guest house’s kitchen counter. Beryl set hers beside it, then went off to her room to change.
Joyce turned the kettle on, then did the same. She put her standard work uniform of elastic-waist trousers and simple button-up shirt, which she usually wore an apron over, into the hamper. She changed into some soft knit leggings that weren’t too tight, and an oversized T-shirt she’d gotten years ago at the local strawberry festival.
She looked into the hamper again. It was pretty full. Time to do a load of washing. She took it out to get it started.
Beryl came out as Joyce was putting clothes in the washing machine. “Kettle’s ready. You want me to fix you a cuppa, too?”
“I’d love one. I’m gasping.”
“Righto.” Beryl got cups down. “You’re doing washing?”
“I am. You want to throw a few things in? There’s room.”
“I do. Be right back.” Beryl retrieved her things from her room and added them to the machine. “Do you have a plan for tea? I hate to say this, but I’m not in the mood for spaghetti Bolognese again.”
“No worries. That’ll keep.” Joyce started the washer, then went over and opened the freezer. “I’ve got some stuffed chicken breasts. We could do those with a bit of salad.”
“Sounds all right with me.”
“Could you get them in? I have brownies to make for Willa. I never did get to them today. The house needs so much more work with Kyle and Ruthie in it.”
Beryl looked at her. “Why didn’t you say something? I could have helped with something.”
“It’s all right. Ruthie was fussy today. Poor Kyle was up most of the night with her. You had your hands full as it was.”
“You’re right about that,” Beryl said. “I hope she’s not getting colic. She had a hard time settling, the poor lamb. Why are you making brownies for Willa?”
“Just because she asked nicely.” Joyce smiled. She took out all the ingredients. “And she said she’d be happy to do something for me in exchange. Not that I could think of anything. I don’t mind, though. She’s a good girl. She’s going to be a teacher at the local middle school this year.”
“Good for her.” Beryl got the chicken breasts out of the freezer and put her glasses on to read the directions.
“Lay a bit of foil on a baking sheet, then thirty-six minutes at three hundred forty-five degrees,” Joyce said. She made them often enough that she knew the directions by heart. Not every meal needed to be from scratch.
Beryl went to work on them while Joyce mixed up the brownie batter. She tore off a piece of foil. “What do you want in the salad? Actually, are you firm on that? I’m not in the mood for salad either, it seems. I’d rather have peas. Well, peas and mash, but I don’t see any potatoes.”
Joyce shrugged one shoulder. “Fine by me. Peas it is. There’s some frozen, if you want to use those. And I do have potatoes.” She took two smallish ones out of the bin in the pantry. “Here you go. These should cook in about the same time as the chicken.”
“Perfect. You mind if I do jacket potatoes, instead?”
“Not a bit.” Joyce went back to the brownies. “When the chicken’s done, I’ll pop these in. I want to run them over to Willa after we eat.”
Beryl gave the potatoes a quick scrub. “Did you use coffee instead of water in the batter?”
Joyce nodded. “I did.”
“A little extra vanilla?”
“That, too.”
“Butter instead of oil? Oil has no flavor, you know.”
Joyce smiled to herself. “I’m about to melt the butter now.”
“Good.” Beryl set the potatoes alongside the chicken breasts, then got the peas from the freezer.
Joyce glanced at her sister. “I haven’t forgotten a single thing you taught me.”
“Just making sure. I want to go with you,” Beryl said. “When you take those over, I mean. I’d love to see the inside of that house. See where Arlington Marsh slept. Can you imagine? Arlington Marsh himself! And you met him. What a life.” She clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth.
Joyce snorted at her sister’s sudden bout of starry-eyed admiration for the late movie star. “What are you going to do? Ask the girls for a tour? Bit cheeky.”
“Oh.” Beryl frowned. “I suppose it would be. I just thought maybe they’d invite us in, and I’d catch a glimpse.”
“They might, but don’t you want to relax after the day you’ve had? The girls are lovely, but we might be there a while if we go in. I don’t mind, just making sure you know.”
Beryl thought a moment, then smiled. She took a pan from the drawer under the stove. “Might be nice having a little girls night with the younger set.”
“They’re not that much younger,” Joyce said, laughing. “But I’m up for it if you are.”
“We could bring a bottle of wine. If you have a bottle of wine.”
Joyce looked around, trying to remember where she’d put it. “I do, but I’m not sure where I put it. In the cabinet over the fridge, maybe. I don’t drink much. Certainly not alone.”
“Well, I live here now.” Beryl’s brows lifted. “And I like a tipple now and then.”
Amazed by this new information, Joyce stared at her sister. “Do you?”
Beryl pursed her lips as she emptied the bag of peas into the pan along with a knob of butter. She turned the burner on low. “Gets boring living alone. A little drink is nice once in a while. Not too much, mind you.” The oven beeped. She put the chicken and potatoes in. “Never more than a glass. Glass and a half, tops. Maybe two on special occasions.”
Joyce laughed. “Whatever you like.”
They ate dinner in front of the telly while watching Coronation Street . The house filled with the chocolaty aroma of the baking brownies. The timer went off. Joyce paused the show, hopped up, and took the brownies out and set them on a rack to cool. They looked as good as they smelled. She’d be proud to take these to Willa.
“Those smell divine,” Beryl said from her spot on the couch. “I wish you’d made some for us now.”
“We might have one anyway when we take them over. If they invite us in.” Joyce thought the girls would. Especially if she and Beryl showed up together.
Was that being forward? Joyce didn’t want to seem pushy. They were still getting to know the girls.
“You think it’s too much, don’t you?” Beryl asked. “The both of us going over there?”
“I don’t know.” Joyce shook her head. “Maybe. I don’t want to be a bother.”
“No, neither do I. You could text, couldn’t you? Ask Harper or Frankie if they’d mind us stopping in for a minute or two? Just to be neighborly?”
“I could, but how are they going to say no to that?”
Beryl shrugged. “Willa did ask for the brownies.”
“True.” Joyce had never said the words out loud, but she’d come to realize how much she’d missed female companionship since Jeanie had died, bless her.
Taking care of Mitch in that house that had become like a mausoleum had taken its toll on her. So much sadness. Jeanie’s memory had haunted that place like the ghost of happiness past. Harper, Frankie, and Willa were a much-needed breath of fresh air. They’d ushered in a new era in Mitch’s life.
And Joyce’s.
They’d brought laughter and happiness and optimism. They’d brought Archie and Lucas. Light and joy had returned to that house. Of course, Kyle and Ruthie had been an unexpected blessing, but Mitch had also adopted a dog .
There was no way that would have happened if not for Harper.
Joyce didn’t want to do anything to lose their friendship or all the incredible gifts they’d brought with them. Not only were they lovely people, but they didn’t treat Joyce like the help. Not that Mitch did, either. But there were a few in this neighborhood who did.
Oh, they didn’t come right out and say it, but she understood what certain looks meant. Some of these women thought themselves too posh for politeness. Like they’d been friends with the late Queen, bless her.
Joyce sighed. “I hate to show up unannounced. I’ll text the three of them together. Then it won’t be a surprise to any of them.”
She got her phone from her purse on the counter and started a new text message, adding in all three phone numbers. Willa’s brownies are made and ready to deliver. Is now a good time to pop round?
She decided to leave it at that for now. See what the response was like before going any further. “I’ve texted. Now we just have to wait and—”
Her phone chimed. Twice. Harper had responded first, with Willa right behind her.
Now is great! I didn’t know you baked to order. LOL
Joyce smiled, then read Willa’s response.
Yes, please! Are you bringing Beryl? Come hang out.
Joyce’s smile widened. She looked up at Beryl. “Get the stepstool out. We need to find that bottle of wine.”