“A good surprise, I hope.” Finn grinned at Jane.
She slowly waved one hand back and forth in a meh kind of answer, which had them elbowing each other and giggling.
Betty smiled. “It’s so refreshing to have young people around. Finn is staying for two whole weeks. It will be so nice. For all of us.”
“Staying here?” George couldn’t help asking. The apartment wasn’t big enough for a full couch. There was a loveseat tucked against one wall with the TV opposite, but as it was, George could probably lean out from his chair in the kitchenette and touch it if he wanted to.
Finn shook his head. “Oh, no. I’m staying at my Dad’s place. He lives like ten minutes from here.”
Betty jumped up when the oven timer went off. “I have to get the rolls out. Jane, dear, would you mind serving up the meatloaf? Start with mother’s and cut it into small pieces for her.”
Jane jumped up to help, and George did too, after scooting in to let Jane by. Finn just sat there, his eyes following Jane in an amused sort of way. George decided to withhold judgment until he knew the guy better. After all, there could only be so many helpers in a tiny kitchenette.
“Is this too much?” George asked Finn, placing a plate of mashed potatoes and meatloaf in front of him.
“Nah, man, this is great.” Finn beamed at Betty when she brought the basket of rolls to the table and handed them to him first. “You’re the best, Aunt Betty.”
Betty turned five shades of red and carefully sat down to eat with them. The soft clanking of forks filled up the space for the next minute until Betty patted her mouth with a napkin and turned to George. “You’re single, aren’t you, dear?”
Jane put a staying hand out. “Don’t answer that.”
“Well, I was only wondering if he could introduce you to his circle of single friends, Jane. I’m not trying to set him up.” Betty patted George’s arm. “I’m not trying to set you up.”
“I am single,” George admitted. “But I think you overestimate my social circle.” His phone chose that moment to ding with an incoming text message. He should have remembered to put it on silent.
“Who’s that then?” Finn asked, nodding at George’s phone with a mischievous grin. He seemed like the type who lived for a good joke.
“Yes, who?” Betty chorused, rubbing her hands together.
George pulled his phone from its holder and swiped it open. “This is from my friend, Emma. She’s pestering me about the costume party she’s having next Friday.”
“A costume party?” Betty’s eyes lit up as if he’d announced they were all going to Disneyland, and a highly impulsive idea occurred to George. He tucked it away for later contemplation.
“We’re not even close to Halloween. Why is she having a costume party?” Finn asked, leaning back in his chair.
“It’s one of those murder mystery dinner parties, with a roaring twenties theme.”
Betty’s eyes grew even bigger. “Oh, Jane. Can you imagine? Wouldn’t you like to go to something like that?”
Jane shook her head. “Not really.”
Betty’s shoulders dropped. “But Finn’s leaving in a few weeks and you don’t want to rattle around here with Mother and me.”
Jane shot Finn a sly look. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”
George was relieved when the conversation turned to other things besides his or Jane’s social lives, or lack thereof.
During the break between dinner and dessert, George texted Emma back, letting her know he’d be over later. If she insisted on including him in party planning, he had a request of his own.
***
Emma glanced at the clock, wondering what time George meant when he’d said ‘later.’ He was late enough to miss Harriet leaving and Granddad going to bed. She’d already turned off CNN on Granddad’s TV and tucked the covers around the snoring man.
Maybe it was a good thing George didn’t see Harriet though. The girl wore her heart on her sleeve, and at the moment, her heart was aching over what to do about Martin. Emma hated watching them try to pick up the pieces of their disintegrating relationship. They were at an impasse. Harriet would not quit her job and move, and neither would Martin.
Emma was trying her best to be impartial about the whole thing. But it was hard to be impartial when the decision would determine whether Granddad had a nurse or not.
Either way, Emma was resolute in going through with the dinner party next Friday. She’d already talked Harriet into coming over early so they could get ready together. She’d chosen Harriet’s role carefully. As Kitty Darling, Harriet would wear a twenties-era flapper dress and maintain a mysterious, yet flirtatious, air. The style flattered Harriet’s short blonde hair, and with dramatic makeup, she’d be irresistible. The dress Emma had bought for her was amazing. Elton would never be the same.
