She’d opened one of the cabinets and had been reaching for the cups, but she stops. Lowers her arm. Her expression is serious as she looks directly into my eyes with her clear blue ones. “I heard there was an accident,” she says softly. “I heard that the husband—your husband—died. I’m very sorry. That’s a tragedy.”
“Thank you.” I feel touched. I think of the red-haired woman. She could have simply heard about Jackson through the grapevine, too, and that gives me a few seconds of comfort until I remember that the red-haired woman was in Greenville, thirty miles from Round Hill, too far away for the rumor mill to reach her. I don’t want to think about her and I focus on Ellie again. “So it’s just my daughter and me now.” I glance at my watch. I have plenty of time before I need to pick Rainie up from my father’s, and I’m in no rush to leave. I like Ellie—her energy and friendliness. I like knowing I have a neighbor.
Ellie takes down the cups and sets them on the counter. “Your daughter’s only three, right?” She scoops the loose tea into a teapot. “That’s got to be so hard on her. And you.”
I nod. “She’ll be four in a couple of months. How did you know her age?”
She looks thoughtful. “I don’t know. I must have heard it somewhere.”
I don’t like that Rainie and Jackson and I have been the topic of so much conversation. “Will you be staying in Round Hill?” I ask, changing the subject.
She sighs and pours hot water into the teapot. “I can’t leave Buddy and my mother,” she says. “I’ve thought of taking them back to San Francisco with me, but I live in a little cottage and all their doctors are here and I’m not sure either of them would survive the trip. So I think I’ll be here until…” She gives a little shrug.
“I understand,” I say. “It’s got to be hard to be uprooted and not know when you can go home.”
Ellie leans back against the counter, her arms folded across her chest. “The hard part is that I have a yoga studio and one of my friends is taking over my classes, but I’ve left things a little topsy-turvy, you could say.”
“You teach yoga?” I can’t keep the surprise from my voice, and she smiles.
“For thirty-five years.”
“No wonder you’re in such amazing shape.”
She laughs. “Thank you.”
“There’s a really good studio on Main Street,” I say. “Have you been?”
“I’ve heard about it, but haven’t found the time to stop in yet. I’ve just been using a room upstairs. Do you practice yoga?” She pours our tea, catching the tea leaves with a small strainer.
“I used to, off and on, though I wasn’t very good at sticking with it.” An understatement. “I did it in my early twenties and then pregnancy yoga when I was expecting Rainie and then a little before I went back to school. And then the accident happened and—” I shrug my shoulders and Ellie nods.
“Life intervened,” she says, setting the two cups on the table and sitting down across from me.
“Right. And now I’m back at work. I took off a few months after the accident, so yoga is not the first thing on my mind.” I taste the tea. It’s far too hot to drink, but the flavor is woodsy, as if I’m drinking my backyard.
“What sort of work do you do?” she asks.
“I’m an architect. My husband and I both were. We designed the house.” I nod toward the end of the street. “We both worked for the same design firm in Greenville.”
She frowns. “Has to be hard, going back to work without him there,” she says, and I nod.
“Extremely,” I say.
“Who’s watching your little girl while you’re working?”
“She’s in preschool in the morning and then my father takes care of her in the afternoon.” I look at the time on my phone again. “Which reminds me that I’d better go pick her up soon.” I nod at the cup of tea in my hand. “This is … interesting.” I smile.
“It’ll grow on you,” she says.
I take another sip. She’s right. It’s not bad. “What are you making in that slow cooker?” I ask. “It smells delicious.”
“Doesn’t it?” she said. “It’s a Middle Eastern stew. I eat mostly vegetarian and a bit of seafood, so I cook a little chicken separately and toss it into my mother’s and Buddy’s bowls. But I have to say I’m frustrated with the stores in Round Hill.”