“I feel the same.”
“And poor Gretta Poole, living with that lie all her life.” Tsking, M.J. shook her head. “Her mother ruled that roost, you’d better believe.”
“Do you know her? Gretta Poole?”
“She did her banking here—or Collin did it for her, for the most part. She hasn’t been well for, oh, a dozen years or more. But he took care of her, good care.”
She filed it all away as she finished setting up her account—just before the bank closed for the day.
She had her market list on her phone—fresh salad makings, fresh fruit, more eggs and milk, more coffee, butter. In and out, she promised herself.
But in the market, she added bagels, chips. And because she didn’t know her way around yet, added more.
Gauging her time, she placed her order at the restaurant. But since the market stood only steps away from a little florist, why not?
Flowers for Cleo’s room, her own, the front parlor. What the hell, the library. Didn’t she spend most of her time there?
Plus, contacts, she reminded herself, and chatted with the florist on duty.
Who happened to be a friend of Anna’s.
“You’re updating Anna’s web page, I hear.”
“More of a new build, but yes.”
“She tells me what she’s seen and approved is terrific.”
“I think so.”
“You know, we have online ordering, and we deliver to the manor.”
“I didn’t know. Do you have a card?”
“Yes. Do you?”
They exchanged cards, and when Sonya walked out, loaded with flowers, she thought: Maybe.
She drove to the Lobster Cage, followed an arrow that said PARKING, and pulled in by what she recognized as Trey’s truck.
More conversation, she thought, but good. She had some questions for him. Unless he was on a date. Though it seemed early for a date.
Even if he had a date, she’d say hello, and potentially meet someone else. This trip had netted her a banker, a grocery clerk, and a florist.
She walked into a bar area, cozily rustic with a brick wall behind the bar, a scatter of dark high and low top tables. Though the wide opening that led to the dining area showed that room was largely empty, the bar area did a lively business.
She spotted Trey at the long bar with a beer in his hand as he talked to the man beside him.
He spotted her, smiled, and swiveled on his stool.
“Buy you a drink, cutie?”
“Tempting, but no. I’m doing takeout and have stuff in the car.”
“Take a minute. Meet your cousin Owen.”
“Oh.”
Owen turned, looked at her with eyes a lighter green than her own and flecked with amber. His hair, a deeper brown than hers, fell unruly around an angular face carrying a couple of days’ worth of stubble.
She supposed, if she looked hard enough, she’d find a resemblance.
“It’s good to meet you.”
He took the hand she held out in one as hard as a wood plank.
“Yeah. You’re a surprise.”
“You, too. Actually, I was hoping to meet you. I went through some of the storage areas over the weekend and wondered if you’d want anything.”
“Want what?”
“There’s so much stored away. So much altogether really. I thought you or the other cousins I didn’t know I had might want something.”
“I can’t think of anything offhand, but … thanks.”
“And there’s his truck.”
“You want to get rid of Collin’s truck?”
“Not get rid of so much as … I’ve never driven a truck.”
“You should learn.” He looked at Trey. “She should learn.”
“Yeah. Maybe don’t rush into that, Sonya. And, Owen, you should go on up there sometime, take a look at what’s stored away. I see where you’re coming from,” he said to Sonya. “It’s a shame so much is just closed away.”
When Owen shrugged, she pressed.
“I wish you would. I’m there most of the time. I work right there. You could just let me know.” She dug out a card. “And tell the others.”
“Sure. I’ll pass it along.”
“Good. And, Trey, do you know anybody who could move a few things? I did find a few items I’d like to move down. And there’s a painting I want to switch out.”
“You’ve got two able-bodied men right here. Why don’t we run up there this weekend, Owen? Two birds for you.”
He shrugged again.