Free Home to You by Cheryl Wolverton Page A

for a week after that pie fell into my lap.”
    The mood was broken as he glanced at his watch.
    “I’m keeping you from something,” she said.
    “I’m running really behind, but I forgot some papers for my briefcase. I had to stop back by.”
    She stepped back. He stepped forward. “I want to talk more. Those were good days, back then, slower days.”
    “Yes, they were.”
    He glanced at his watch again.
    She bit her lip in worry.
    “Don’t feel out of place, Meghan.”
    How had he known what she was feeling?
    “Accept the hospitality and stay with us. It’s a time to renew our acquaintance, for you to recover. We’re here for you.”
    In embarrassment her gaze slid away. “I have to go upstairs.” She pointed behind to the garage apartment.
    “And I have to go.”
    “Well…” She rubbed her legs and turned to go.
    He started to leave and she heard him stop. “And Meghan?”
    She paused and waited, not turning around.
    “You clean up really good.”
    Mortified, she wanted to run, and yet, she didn’t. In a way, that was one of the nicest things she’d heard in a long time and something that made her feel, in an odd way, very special.
    Without another word, she started up the stairs.
    Once in the apartment, she lay down for a short time, 78
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    and when she returned to the main house, Dakota was gone.
    Carolyne was sitting in the living room drinking tea.
    She smiled up at Meghan. “Glad you’re back, dear. Are you ready to talk?”
    Meghan shrugged self-consciously. Then she offered a tentative smile.
    “Well, come over and sit—” The knocking on the door stopped her.
    “Oh Carolyne? Carolyne!”
    Carolyne sighed. Smiling at Meghan, she warned,
    “Brace yourself. It looks like we’re not going to get much conversing done.”
    Meghan looked at her, confused.
    Carolyne only chuckled and strolled to the front door.
    “Good morning, Mary. Margaret. How can I help you?”
    The two women bustled in nearly before Carolyne could open the door.
    “Is that woman up yet?” Margaret asked.
    “She’s got a name, sister. At least, I’m sure she does.”
    She looked at Carolyne.
    “Of course she does, sister,” Margaret replied. “But do you know it? I mean, she wasn’t in any condition yesterday, and if she’s not up yet…”
    Margaret looked past Carolyne and her eyebrows shot up. “Well! What a change. What’s she wearing?”
    “Sister!” Mary turned to Carolyne, her blue hair bobbing as she shook her head in apology. “She didn’t mean that. We found something for her to wear. Yesterday, well, she couldn’t very well wear that, now, could she?” Mary thrust out the clothes she held.
    Carolyne bit back a smile at the age-old dress that Cheryl Wolverton
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    had obviously belonged to one of the sisters back in the forties or earlier. “It was very stylish,” Mary offered.
    “Doesn’t look like she needs it now,” Margaret har-rumphed. “And what is her name?”
    Carolyne sighed. “Ladies, please come meet a family friend.” She turned and headed toward Meghan, hearing the two women shuffling along behind her.
    She smiled gently at the shell-shocked Meghan.
    “Meghan, this is Mary and Margaret—”
    “I remember you!”
    Both women stepped back in surprise.
    Meghan blushed at her exclamation. “I’m sorry. I—
    it’s the smile—” she glanced at Mary “—and your eyes,” she said to Margaret.
    Both women beamed, any past transgressions forgotten at Meghan’s inadvertent flattery.
    “Well, now, child. I have to say I don’t remember you,” Margaret tut-tutted as she bustled over to Meghan and studied her closely.
    “I used to play with Cody.” Feeling the close scru-tiny, she flushed.
    “A young blond-haired girl,” Carolyne supplied.
    Margaret frowned. “Mud pies.”
    “Oh yes,” Mary affirmed. “I remember that. A little girl and Cody were famous for waiting until we weren’t looking and going out back near the alley to dig in the ditch to make