“We had you,” Rachel said with the easy shrug of someone who finally knew her place in the world. It was a lovely thing to see.
Her granddaughter nodded at the scissors and markers on her desk. “Art project?”
“I’m doing a thing for Danny.” The last time she hadn’t quite gotten through the way she’d wanted to, but this time she felt like she had it. But she knew that if this didn’t work, she’d come up with something else until he felt equipped to take care of his situation at home.
Rachel worried the edge of her sleeve. “I was surprised when you said you wanted to take him on as a client,” she broached carefully.
Lottie set the marker in her hand aside and faced her. “Because I’m too old?”
“Of course not,” Rachel said, vehemently shaking her head. “You are definitely not old. I mean, look at you. You get younger every day. That outfit is fabulous, by the way.”
Smiling, she ran a hand down her sides. The shirt was an emerald velvet that crossed in the front, and the skirt was a slightly lighter green and purple. She’d topped it off with the soft belt the salesperson had insisted she’d needed. “I love it. Didier picked out the top.”
“Maybe I should ask Didier to go shopping with me,” Rachel said. Then she sat back and crossed her arms. “But I can’t help but wonder what this transformation is about.”
“You don’t like it?”
“On the contrary, I think it’s wonderful.” She studied her. “Jamie thinks it’s because of a man, but I told him that was ridiculous.”
“Thatisridiculous,” she agreed. “A woman shouldn’t change because of a man.”
Her granddaughter relaxed visibly.
“This”—she gestured to herself—“is only because I decided I was still in the land of the living, and I wanted to act like it. The man is purely a result of all that.”
Rachel stilled, her hands clenching the armrests of her chair. “So thereisa man?” she asked carefully.
“I hope so.” Then she thought to add, “Don’t worry. He’s not using me for my money, and, yes, we’ll use condoms.”
“Grandmother,” Rachel admonished.
She sighed. “Since we’re discussing this now, I have a question I want to ask you.”
“Do I need wine for this question?” Rachel asked.
Lottie perked up. “Maybe champagne? Didier has some in his office.”
“It’s before noon.”
She shrugged. “Since when do winners conform to rules like that?”
“Oh jeez, I’m going to have to separate you and Jamie.” Rachel gripped the chair tighter and exhaled. “Okay. I’m ready for your question.”
Lottie took a deep breath too. She had no idea how Rachel would react to this one. “How attached are you to the house?”
“Your house?” Rachel frowned. “Are they calling and harassing you to sell again?”
“They’re calling, but I can fend them off. It’s just that I’m not sure I want to fend them off any longer.” She watched her granddaughter closely. “I’m thinking about selling the place.”
“What?” Rachel sat forward.
She nodded. “It’s a lot of house for just me. And, really, I’m thinking I need a bachelorette pad,” she joked.
Well—it was kind of a joke, but there was a grain or two of truth to it.
Whenever she went to visit Rachel and Jamie at their penthouse, she had a moment of envy. Their plumbing worked, and all the rooms were warm. She loved her house, but it was old and it showed.
Sometimes she wondered what it’d be like to live someplacenew, with real heat and ceilings that didn’t leak.