here.”
He grinned. “I’m trying to reach out and find my empathy.”
“How’s that going?”
“Pretty good. I could put myself in Ottie’s shoes. He’s got a cool top hat.”
She laughed.
“But I also learned that he misses his friends, most of whom have kicked the bucket. His wife has Alzheimer’s and doesn’t recognize him, and his only daughter died of cancer last year.”
“I didn’t know about his wife and daughter. He’s lonely,” Margo murmured.
Trace nodded. “But he’s an avid hockey fan and follows all the games on a small radio he carries around. He’s cheering for the wrong team, but he knows hockey.”
“He probably appreciates sharing it with you. Not many stop to chat with him about it.”
“Yeah. It felt a bit awkward grabbing some soup, but it felt even more awkward sitting there and not eating with him.”
Margo nodded. “Breaking bread with others is what it’s all about. Nobody minds.”
“Good to know. Ottie’s a special guy.”
So are you. Not many would stop to sit and chat. It was easier to hide in the kitchen. She stacked another bowl in the rack for him to dry. “Their stories can be heartbreaking, but they smile and carry on.”
“You have to admire them.” He dried a bowl and set it on the counter. “And the soup was delicious. Mrs. Crombie was here yesterday. She had a ball.”
“Really? Hattie said she appreciated her help.”
“Do you recruit everyone you meet?”
“Pretty much.”
“Glad to see there aren’t any other boyfriends here,” Trace said, tongue-in-cheek.
Margo laughed and shook her head. She finished the last bowl and handed it over to Trace.
Hattie came bustling into the kitchen. She put the bowls away and cleared off the counters. “Looks like we’re all done here,” she said, looking around the room. “Thanks for all your help. It goes a lot quicker.” She looked over at Margo. “We’ll see you Thursday?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll be here as soon as I can, after work.”
“Thanks, darlin’. I sure do appreciate it. How about you, honey pot? Will you be back?” Hattie asked, looking at Trace.
Trace nodded. “I promised Ottie I’d take him to watch the game tomorrow. So I’ll come and help out and then take him over to the pub.”
“That’s mighty fine of you,” Hattie said.
“I made him a bet that the Cascades would score the first goal. If they do, he has to wear the Cascade sticker on his top hat. If they don’t, I’m supplying ice cream all next week.”
Hattie’s laughter filled the air. “Butterscotch ripple. That’s all I’m gonna say ’bout how that’ll turn out.”
Trace smiled. “Ottie’s sure of a win if there’s butterscotch ripple on the line?”
“Exactly.” Hattie pulled out her keys as they put on their coats. “You two have a wonderful evening. I’ll lock behind you and then head out the front door in the dining room to double check it’s locked.”
Trace held the door open for Margo, and when it closed, they heard the click of a lock.
Margo pulled out her scarf and wrapped it around her neck, tucking the ends in her jacket. “Brrr . . . feels colder.”
“Wanna come and warm up at Decker’s? I’m meeting a few guys for a beer,” Trace asked with a persuasive smile.
“Will Daniel be there?”
Trace’s smile dimmed. He stuck his hands in his pockets and looked away. “I don’t know.”
Margo winced. “I didn’t mean–”
“No, it’s fine. I get it,” he interjected. “Mutual admiration. I’m not sure which of the boys will be there. The text goes out. Whoever shows, shows.”
Margo shifted her purse on her shoulder. “Oh. Of course. Look, I’d better not. I had a busy day today, and tomorrow is an early start. Thanks for the invite, though.”
“Yeah, no problem. We’re still on for Friday?”
“Yup. You’re going to bring the answers to your essay questions?”
Trace looked at her. “I’ve been chewing through them. They’ll be done by