Chapter Thirteen
John
Scottie greeted him as he entered her office by handing him a deep blue, glossy shirt box tied with a yellow ribbon. “Dad had these made for you. The House of Blue crest is sewn over the pocket. If you want a couple for your brother, let us know.”
“How did you know my size?”
“Forty-four regular.” She slid open a part of a wood-paneled wall to reveal a kitchenette. “A bit wider in the shoulders and tapered at the waist. Does someone tailor your shirts in Port Fressa?”
“Depends on the shirt. How’d you do that?” John set the box on a live edge, polished table positioned in front of a modern, deep-green couch with a low back and wood frame.
“It’s my superpower. Coffee? Tea?”
“Tea if I’m staying long enough?”
“I’m sorry we’ve not connected before now. My trip to New York last week was unexpected.” She set out two mugs bearing the O’Shay logo then activated an electric kettle.
“No worry. You’ve a business to run and I’ve been helping with newborn puppies.”
“Puppies? How’d you get roped into that?” She held up a carton of cream and he nodded.
“The night I had dinner with you and Trent, Gemma invited me in to finish our carry-away desserts. We’d just finished when Doc Goodwin dropped off six two-day-old puppies. Since they need feeding around the clock, we banded together to keep the wee things alive.”
“I didn’t peg you for the rescue type but now that you mention it…” Scottie held up a familiar tin of tea. “Lauchtenland’s Titus blend. Is that okay?”
“You’ve a Titus blend?” Hands locked behind his back, he approached his sister as he might approach the skittish Whinny. “I’m surprised you have anything from Lauchtenland.”
“You make me sound like a bigot,” she said. “I’m stubborn but not unreasonable. I thought why not start with their famous tea?”
“Fair enough.” He stepped a bit closer. “And?”
“I have a cup every morning.” Her confession was slightly bent with humor and the long drawl of the American south.
“Shall I take it you are warming to my homeland? More specifically, the House of Blue?”
Her laugh carried the same resonance as Mum’s. “It will take more than a cup of tea, I’m afraid.”
She handed John a steaming mug, talking all the while about how they designed and made his shirts, leading him to a small seating area by the window.
“What shall we talk about?” she said. “Our childhoods? Our likes and dislikes? Why you grew up with our mama and I didn’t?”
“I’m sorry you got the short end of the stick.”
“Maybe, but I had Shug, so it wasn’t a total loss.”
“Why do you call her Shug?”
“Shug is short for sugar. And it’s what she wanted. The first time Dad referred to her as ‘grandma’ she had a coronary. Hyperbolically speaking, of course. She said her grandmother was Grandma and a nastier woman never drew a breath. So she wanted something sweet.”
“Like sugar,” he said.
“Exactly. Then Fritz claimed he wanted a unique name as well. He called his grandfather Fritz, and apparently asweeterman never drew a breath, so he claimed the name.”
“What are they like? Shug and Fritz?”
“She’s queen of the O’Shays, trying to run our private lives while Dad and Fritz run the business. Fritz is semi-retired but he comes into the office a few days a week. Shug also tries to boss around Hearts Bend without ever running for election. If there’s a committee for improving the town, she’s on it. Chairs most of them. It’s a full-time job. But when it came to me, Shug cared for and loved me like no one’s business.”
“You may have had it better than Gus and me, Scottie. Growing up normal, if I’m allowed to use that word. Not having the press spying on you twenty-four seven.”
