The meeting droned on, despite the fact that Mayor James didn’t suffer long bouts of needless questions. She’d allow a couple and then tell people to contact the committee members in charge if they needed more information, providing cell phone numbers. The poor committee members looked like they could use a weekend at the Swiss Bliss Spa on Main Street.
Wynn didn’t dare leave for fear she’d miss the one thing, whatever that was, she had to know before the festival started. She’d been the same way in school, refusing to skip class in case there was a pop quiz. It’d driven Thatcher nuts, but Judd always stood up for her—she secretly believed that he was relieved not to have to be the one to tell his brother no.
Finally, there was a burst of noise as the meeting ended and neighbors started talking.
“So.” Dorothy stood up and slipped her purse strap over her shoulder. “How’s your family?”
“We’re doing good.” Wynn lifted her phone to show Dorothy the image of the kids on the horse. “I’ll have a hundred questions about why we can’t get a horse after this, though.”
Dorothy took her phone and bent over it. “They’ve grown so big. Is that—” She dropped her nose closer to the screen. “—Judd?”
Wynn reached for the phone, needing to have it back immediately. “Yeah. He’s babysitting for me tonight.”
“I always thought he was so cute.”
“Oh?” Wynn glanced down at her planner and then tucked it into the cook of her arm. She didn’t want to talk about Judd and how cute he used to be. Their high school days seemed so long ago, and he’d had horrible taste in girls. She’d hated double dating with him, because he always picked the girls who were too worried about their makeup and hair to play a game of pick-up ball or hike to a picnic overlook.
“Is he single?” Dorothy glanced away, her cheeks going pink.
Uh-oh.“Yeah. I guess.”
“You guess?”
“I mean, I don’t really think about his social life, but I don’t think he’s dating anyone.” She was being vague and had no idea why.
Dorothy giggled. “Okay. Can you set us up?”
Wynn cocked her head. “Like, on a date?”
“Yes, a date, silly. Oh my gosh, if we got married, you and I could be sisters-in-law. Well …” Her face fell. “Sort of. I mean, I guess you’re not like, tied to the family anymore now that Thatcher is gone.”
Wynn barely had time for the sense of indignation to sharpen to a point before Alice cleared her throat. “She’s as much a Westbrook as I am.” Her dark brown eyes were fierce.
“What if she remarries?” Dorothy tossed out.
“There’s more to family than bloodlines or last names.” Alice bit her lip. She’d had a rough upbringing. Wynn didn’t know where her zeal came from, because she’d run away from home as soon as she had her diploma and a soft place to land.
Dorothy scratched her neck and tugged at her shirt. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to offend.”
“S’okay.” Alice lifted her shoulders.
Wynn caught her eye and mouthed the wordsthank you.
Alice attempted a smile and then gathered her things quickly and left. Wynn watched her for a moment, but her attention was brought back to Dorothy when she touched her arm.
“I really wasn’t trying to be insensitive.”
“It’s fine.” Wynn brushed her guilt away. She’d gotten good at that. Those kinds of remarks weren’t meant to hurt her. Had she married Thatcher not knowing their time was short, she might have felt cheated and bruised when those comments spewed forth. As it was, she’d had a soft whisper from God that she’d done right by Thatcher and therefore was too confident in wearing his last name to let them bother her.
“I just got really excited about the idea of living near you and raising our kids together.”
“That would be …” Wynn trailed off. Her children were in school now. There wouldn’t be playdates and park time. If anything, she’d be the babysitter when Dorothy needed to get out of the house. “… neat,” she finished lamely.
“So will you talk to him? See if he’s interested in going out?”
“I don’t really feel comfortable with this,” Wynn hedged. What she felt was her skin crawling. Dorothy and Judd? Together? Kissing? She tried to picture it. Instead of Dorothy leaning into Judd, it was her. Umm—no. She mentally slammed the door shut on those thoughts. “But I’ll see what I can do,” she finished.
“Great. Let me give you my number.”
