was more brief. Two streets over from Caroline’s house, she pulled up to a small clapboard house squeezed in between a couple rehabbed four-unit condominiums. Wally Hicks used to be her family’s mailman, and his wife, Donna, taught her and Claire’s Sunday-school class for years. Donna had early-stage Alzheimer’s and failing vision, while Wally could barely hear and had a bad heart. Between the two of them, they could almost manage to take care of each other and they were always so thrilled when she dropped off a few meals for them and a special treat for their bad-tempered bulldog, Clyde.
The third stop was the shortest of all—and she definitely left Leo in the car for this one.
Frances Redmond lived next door to Claire and Riley and she didn’t care for dogs. Or most people, for that matter.
Claire did what she could to help Frances but the older woman was grumpy about letting other people in. She always said she didn’t want Alex to keep coming, but she persevered, partly out of guilt for a few pranks she had pulled on the woman when she was a girl and partly because every time she came, Frances had a box full of empty containers to give back to her, indicating she ate the food, Alex hoped. For all she knew, Frances might have just dumped it all in her disposal and ran the dishes through her dishwasher, but she wanted to think she was doing a little good.
“If you’re going to bring all this food, even though I’ve told you again and again not to, why can’t you leave out all the fancy froufrou ingredients? What’s wrong with good, hearty basic food?”
Apparently rosemary was considered froufrou these days. Alex sighed. “Absolutely nothing, Mrs. Redmond. You’re right, I love things that are simple. I promise, I only mixed a few herbs in a couple of the dishes. Nothing exotic, I swear.”
“No sun-dried tomatoes like last time?”
“Nope. You told me you like plain old tomatoes and that’s what I used.”
“I suppose you put some of that Dijon mustard in this chicken salad, too.”
Alex shook her head. “Plain yellow, just like you ordered.”
“Good.”
No thank you, no how kind. Alex wasn’t sure why she bothered. There were others in town who would appreciate her efforts more but, then, she didn’t do this to be showered with gratitude. She liked the warm feeling she received from helping others regardless of their reaction. Her mother and Claire had set a good example in that department.
Besides, she always felt a little sorry for Mrs. Redmond. Her life had been tough. She had lost a couple children and her husband had died young.
Some people—her sister Maura, for example—faced their sorrows with courage and grace and refused to allow hurt and loss to define them.
Others, like Mrs. Redmond, became angry and bitter, taking their internal pain out on everyone around them and keeping away anybody who wanted to reach out.
Alex considered her own outlook to fall somewhere in the middle. She could understand Frances Redmond’s desire to huddle over her hurts and keep anyone else from inflicting more. Maybe that’s why she could view her surliness with an exasperated empathy.
“I’ll see you next time. Have a lovely week.”
“It’s supposed to rain every day,” Frances grumbled.
“Then that soup I made will surely hit the spot, won’t it?” She grinned all the way back toward her car.
Just before she reached it, a boy riding past the house on a blue mountain bike braked when he spotted her.
“Hi, Aunt Alex!”
Her heart lifted at the name. Claire’s son had always called her Aunt Alex, even before his mother married her brother and made their relationship official. “Hey, Owen. How’s my favorite dude?”
The ten-year-old gave her a grin that she imagined would break a fair number of hearts someday. “I’m good. What are you doing here?”
“Just passing by. Why aren’t you in school?”
“We had early release today for some teacher work day thing and only had half a day. Riley is coming home early and we’re goin’ fishing. Mace and Mom are going shopping in a little while.”
Her wild, once-hardened brother had definitely turned his life around and had become a fantastic stepfather to Claire’s two children, Owen and his sister, Macy, from her first marriage. She never would have expected him to be so good at it but he had transitioned smoothly into Claire’s complicated life.
The two of them shared custody with Claire’s ex and his wife. So far they all seemed to be