Josie’s scowl grew darker. “As a matter of fact, I don’t.”
“Really?” Willow studied her ragtag daughter. “I’d offer you something of mine, but I’m afraid you’d be insulted.”
Josie brightened slightly. “I don’t know. What do you have?”
Willow tried to hide her shock. “Why don’t we go see?”
Josie set down her milk and followed Willow into her bedroom, flopping down on her bed. “Show me what you got.”
Willow went into her walk-in closet and looked around. “I know you’re skinnier than me, Josie, but there might be something you could cinch in or belt or something.” She dug around until she found a faded denim sundress that she knew was too small for her, but she’d always liked it. “How about this?” She held it up and Josie wrinkled her nose.
“I don’t think so.”
“It actually looks much better on,” Willow told her.
“What else do you have?” Josie came into the closet and began to look around. “How about this?” She held up one of Willow’s favorite tops. “Boho chic?”
“That would look good on you.”
“I have a pair of jeans that aren’t too bad.” Josie held the top up in front of the mirror. “Whaddya think?”
“I think you’d look lovely.” Willow touched Josie’s stringy hair, which, as usual, needed a good shampoo. “How about a pair of sandals? You still wear an eight?”
“Yeah.”
Willow held up a pair of woven leather platform sandals that she no longer felt comfortable in due to the height. “You can have these if you want.”
“Really? These are cool, Mom. Thanks.” She pointed to the sundress still lying on the bed. “Maybe I’ll take that too. Just in case.”
“Great. Now I better get down there,” Willow told her. “But there’s no hurry for you. Things don’t usually get going until around seven. You could even grab a shower if you like.”
“As in hint-hint?” Josie’s tone was sharp, but her grin was sassy.
“Just saying.” Willow slid her feet into her own sandals, a low-heeled pair, comfortable enough to get her through the night, but blinged out with rhinestones. “See you later, honey.”
As Willow went down to the gallery, she prayed a silent prayer for Josie ... that she would start finding her place in this town—and in the world at large. Willow was actually encouraged that Josie was interested in socializing. She just hoped her unpredictable daughter wouldn’t make a scene. And knowing that Collin would be there didn’t exactly foster confidence.
eighteen
By Friday evening, George and Baxter were the best of friends. But now George felt foolish and petty for treating Willow so badly this morning. Had he really called her a “camel’s nose”? Oh my.
“I guess I should try to fix things with her,” he told Baxter as he dried the last of his dinner dishes. He considered calling Willow with an apology and proper thank-you, but he remembered that she’d mentioned tonight’s Final Friday gallery show. George hung up the damp dish towel, then leaned down to pet Baxter. “What do you think, fellow ... would you miss me for an hour or so?”
Baxter just rubbed against his legs, almost as if to confirm he would be fine on his own. Then George changed into a fresh shirt and put on a tie and jacket. “Do you like classical music?” he asked Baxter as he turned on his radio—tuned, as usual, to the classical channel. “Let Mozart keep you company for a bit.”
George gave Baxter a kitty treat then headed out the door. While strolling to town, he rehearsed his apology. He knew he’d have to keep it short and sweet in case the gallery wasbusy, and since it was past seven, he expected it would be. After his apology, George planned to reassure her that Baxter was settling in just fine and promised to be a wonderful addition to George’s simple household. And then he would go.
Strains of music floated out the open door of the Willow West gallery. As he’d expected, the place was crowded. George felt a rush of nerves as he went inside. Not for the first time, he wondered, how did this woman manage to continually push him out of his comfort zone?
“Hello, Mr. Emerson.” Marissa looked happy to see him. “Welcome to the show. We have some really great pieces tonight. And refreshments in the back.”
Collin came over to say hello as well. Like Marissa, he was so warm and congenial that George hoped Willow hadn’t told him about last weekend’s balloon ride fiasco.
“How’s your job at the bookstore going?” George asked Collin.
“Really great. I’m already full-time.”
“Good for you.” George scanned the crowd in search of Willow, spying her on the far side of the gallery.
