Susannah's Garden (Blossom Street #3)(39)

“I’m ready for lunch, too,” Chrissie told her, straightening.

All they had to do now was collect Susannah. Vivian knew where she wanted to go for lunch. Le Gourmand was new to Colville, and Vivian had heard that they served an incredibly good chicken salad. Her mouth watered just thinking about it. She missed going out for lunch; many an afternoon she’d lunched with her two best friends, Barbara and June, but they were both gone now, God rest their souls. George, too.

“They have outside seating,” Vivian said as Susannah held open the car door.

“Who does, Mother?”

“Le Gourmand.”

“Is that where you’d like to go for lunch?”

Silly girl. She’d already said so. Sometimes she swore Susannah simply didn’t listen. “Yes. It’s such a nice afternoon, let’s eat outside.”

“That sounds perfect,” Susannah said, helping Vivian into the front seat.

Vivian struggled with the seat belt. The car manufacturers made them so hard to reach these days. If not for Chrissie’s handing it to her, Vivian would’ve needed to be a contortionist.

“It’s new, but apparently their chicken salad is excellent. They add chopped walnuts.”

“Le Gourmand has been around for ten years,” Susannah said.

“Yes, I know.” They did a nice lunch business, but were closed for dinner.

Thankfully there were plenty of empty tables on the patio. Vivian watched as Susannah went inside to place their order. Vivian remembered that she wanted to buy their lunch, but all of a sudden she couldn’t seem to find her purse. She twisted around in her seat, and her heart started to pound hard. George would be so upset if she lost her pearls.

“What’s wrong, Grandma?” Chrissie asked.

“I don’t know what I did with my purse.”

Chrissie leaned close and whispered, “It’s on your lap, Grandma.”

Her relief was immediate. The red purse lay there, as peaceful as a sleeping kitten.

“Your brown purse with the jewelry is in the trunk of the car, remember?”

Actually, that little piece of information had slipped her mind. She was grateful for the reminder, although she wished Chrissie hadn’t shared it with the entire world.

“Here comes Mom now.”

Susannah took a seat at the small round table. Vivian appreciated the umbrella that had been tilted to shade her face from the sunlight.

“Our order should be ready in a few minutes.”

“Did you get my tea?” Vivian asked, but her question was drowned out by the roar of a truck engine as it pulled to a stop at the intersection. A long-haired young man turned to look at them. His window was rolled down and his dark hair fell into his face. He needed a shave, too. His tanned elbow rested on the window ledge, and he hadn’t bothered to put on a decent shirt that morning. Instead, he wore a sleeveless T-shirt. While Vivian assessed him, he was making eyes at Chrissie. Such flirting was inappropriate and she was about to warn Chrissie when she noticed that her granddaughter seemed to be enjoying it.

He nodded in Chrissie’s direction and to Vivian’s horror, Chrissie nodded back. Vivian pursed her lips. He started to say something, but his gaze slid to her and he changed his mind, as well he should.

She needed a few minutes to recognize the young man, but her brain provided the answer the second he looked at her. It was Troy Nance, a known troublemaker.

The light turned green and Troy drove off with a burst of noise and exhaust.

“Who was that, Grandma?” Chrissie asked.

She hesitated, wondering if she should tell Chrissie, and then decided she would. Susannah’s daughter was a sensible young woman and would see that Troy was completely unsuitable.

“He’s the son of that girl you went to school with,” Vivian told Susannah.

“I went to school with a lot of girls, Mom.”

“I can’t remember her name.”

“What’s his name?” Chrissie pressed.

“Troy Nance.”

“Sharon Nance’s son?”

“Yes.” Of course. Sharon hadn’t been married, so she and her son had the same last name. Although hers might be something different now…. Vivian shook her head; she couldn’t even imagine who the boy’s father had been. Whoever he was, he certainly hadn’t stayed in the picture long.

“I haven’t seen Sharon in years.”

Not that Susannah was likely to cross paths with the other woman. The last Vivian had heard, Sharon was working at the Roadside Inn on the outskirts of town. She was the kind of woman George often saw in his courtroom—the kind of woman he described as trouble looking for a place to happen.

“He’s cute,” Chrissie murmured.

Susannah’s eyes flew to Vivian’s and this time the two of them traded a look. Vivian knew what that look meant, too.

It said Chrissie wasn’t as levelheaded as Vivian had assumed and Susannah was well aware of it.

CHAPTER 15

When Susannah took her mother back to Altamira, she could see that Vivian was exhausted. Still wearing her sweater, Vivian sat in front of the television and automatically put her feet up. Within minutes, she was sound asleep and snoring softly.

Susannah and Chrissie quietly left the room after securing her mother’s purse with the jewelry in the bottom dresser drawer. As soon as they were out in the parking lot, Chrissie turned to her and said, “Grandma hardly looks the same anymore.”