Free Destiny Calling by Maureen L. Bonatch Page B

returned one of his own. “Would you rather have iced tea?”
    “Hot tea is fine.” Picking up the cup, I wondered if it would be as good as the coffee this morning. It was. The first cookie melted on my tongue as if liquid sugar. It was official. I was in heaven. “Ruthie,” I mumbled, very unladylike, around a mouthful of cookie. “These cookies are delicious. Where did you buy them?”
    “Buy?” Ruthie glowered. “I made them this morning. Of course they’re delicious—I told you about my gift.”
    “You made these today?” There were various kinds of cookies on the tray. “All of these? How in the world would you have had the time?” I accomplished minimal today, and apparently most days, compared to Ruthie. “You told me your gift was knowing things. What’s that have to do with cookies?”
    “I know how to make them delicious, of course.” Ruthie popped a nut roll into her mouth. “If I’m making one kind, I figure why not make six? Especially, when I got the likes of him gobbling them up like no tomorrow.” She playfully elbowed George’s large belly. He tried to look innocent, but his mustache betrayed him, displaying crumbs of multiple kinds of cookies tenaciously clinging to it.
    “You could have a bakery. You’d make a mint.” I snagged a couple more cookies for my plate when George began ogling them for another round.
    “Oh, I may, I may.” Ruthie straightened the coasters on the coffee table and brushed at the dust no one but she could see. “I’d planned to, say about twenty-one or so years ago. Had a few names I was thinking of and all, either You Know You Want a Cookie, or something like Delicious & Delectable. ” She looked at me pointedly.
    I shrugged, continuing to eat, not sure why it had anything to do with me.
    “’Cause my gift would help me do grand in selling baked goodness, of course. Oh, Baked Goodness , that could’ve been the name, as well.” She nodded. “But more pressing needs came into play.” She smacked both of her hands down on her thighs, causing a minor quake of flesh, and then she clutched the fabric apparently in an effort to restrain her hand’s restless spirit.
    “Besides, it’s not every day we have company. Especially your company.” Ruthie bestowed one of her dazzling smiles upon me.
    George nodded his agreement as he shoveled cookies into his mouth. “That’s right, we been waiting on you a long time.” Cookie crumbs sprayed out, although most were captured in the mustache for later snacking.
    “I don’t understand.” I sighed, putting down my teacup. “Why were you waiting for me?” I reached into my pocket to run my fingers over the magazine photo. “Is it because you know where I can find my mother?”
    Ruthie stiffened and glanced to George, then shook her head. “Find her? Ahh, no.”
    “None of this makes any sense.” I slumped back on the couch. One of the dolls tumbled over on to my lap, and her glass, heavily lashed eyes looked up at me. I gingerly replaced the doll back in her corner of the couch, resisting the urge to hurl the creepy thing. I didn’t want to offend Ruthie and George with my revulsion of their plastic children.
    “It will. It will all make sense in time, child.” Ruthie patted my leg, looking at me with sympathy, and then turned to George. “It would’ve helped if Tessa told her a little over the years. She should’ve explained about the power to persuade to get her prepared, don’t you agree?”
    “Yes.” George nodded, appearing reluctant to stop chewing and have to converse. Probably the only time he was quiet. I had the impression George agreed with most of what Ruthie said.
    I set my plate on the table to eliminate the sugary distraction. “Please stop talking about me like I’m not here. What do you mean the power to persuade? How do you know Tessa?”
    “I’ve always known her. How couldn’t I?”
    “Now, now Ruthie, you can’t say always.” George chastised, waving a meaty