Free Perfectly Reasonable by Linda O'Connor Page B

him.” Margo picked up the otoscope, walked into the dining room, and glanced around. The room was starting to fill up, but she saw Ottie in his usual chair. She made her way over and as soon as he saw her, he grinned, stood up, and tipped his hat.
    “Did you hear we’re having butterscotch ripple?” he asked.
    She laughed. “I did. Well played.”
    He smacked his lips. “I can’t wait. Trace was as good as his word, taking me to the game, and stocking up on ice cream after the first goal. And he’s never without a smile. I like him.”
    Margo smiled.
    “And he slipped in the odd question or two about you. Real subtle. Not too pushy.”
    Margo’s eyes widened.
    “So I told him what I know. I think he’s all right for you. Better if he was a doctor. You don’t want a bum. But he’s pretty sharp with all that fancy math stuff. I think he would work out.”
    Margo choked out a laugh. “Good to know. I’ll keep it in mind. Hattie mentioned that your ear is bothering you,” she said quickly to change the subject.
    He put his finger in his right ear. “Can’t hear out of this one. Good thing we watched the game at the pub. No way I could listen to it. I think it might be the wax again.”
    “Come with me, and I’ll take a look.”
    “I’d appreciate that.” He followed her to a small room off the kitchen.
    She put the otoscope to his ear. “You’re right, it’s wax.”
    She syringed it out with warm water, and Ottie let out a sigh of relief when his hearing returned. “Thank you very much. I was beginning to feel a little crooked with my ear blocked like that. Wow, that is some improvement.” He wiggled his head. “Thank you. Sure is handy having a doctor at the dinner table. One stop shop.”
    Margo put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m happy to help. Bean soup with corn bread tonight.”
    “Oh, I’m looking forward to it. And to the butterscotch ripple,” he added with a wide grin.
    “Enjoy your meal, Ottie.”
    He went back to the dining room, and she cleaned up and went to help Hattie serve.
    At the end of the evening, with the dishes done and stacked away, Hattie turned to Margo. “You have yourself a wonderful weekend. I hope your plans include some fun. Maybe some fun spelled T-R-A-C-E,” she said with a wiggle of her eyebrows.
    Margo smiled weakly and slipped her jacket on. Another matchmaker, just like Ottie and Mrs. Crombie. Did they get together on public transit and plan? Discuss how other people should run their lives between stops?
    Oh well, it could be worse. They could be yellow car people.

Chapter 13
    This was supposed to be fun. She kept telling herself that. She pulled on jeans, a long-sleeved dark purple shirt, and a sweater splashed with bright flowers.
    She looked in the mirror at the dark circles under her eyes and smeared on another layer of make-up. Fun. Her hair curled around her face. The snow had stopped, and the air was dry, so at least her hair wasn’t poufy. She left it down and hooked dangling pink and purple earrings in her ears.
    What could be more fun than meeting up with the one person who, if they really knew you, would have nothing to do with you?
    She sat down on the edge of the bed. She really needed to spruce up the color in this room. It was such a downer. Maybe she should buy a gallon of bright pink, with the energy and happiness of a five-year-old girl. That would liven things up. Of course, then she might not be able to fall asleep.
    She sighed and picked up her black leather ankle boots, carried them into the living room, and set them down by the front door.
    This room was better. The walls were gray with an undertone of blue in the light. But it was the blast of color in her collection of artwork that really pulled her in. A collection of six square photographs in substantial black frames hung above the sofa – colorful blossoms with the energy of spring. Her own painting, an abstract in blues and greens with a hint of orange, hung on the opposite