Driftwood Bay (Hope Harbor #5) - Irene Hannon Page 0,18
the wheel and surveyed the Grace Christian fellowship hall.
She’d dropped off her contribution late yesterday—and she had had a full day at the tearoom. A long soak in a lavender-scented bath would be far preferable to attending this shindig.
Except when Marci had called this morning to thank her for the shortbread, the woman had managed to coax a tenuous promise out of her to show up tonight.
The Herald editor should have been a politician.
Heaving a sigh, Jeannette picked up her purse.
Honoring her promise didn’t have to take long. All she had to do was say hello to the guests of honor.
Halfway up the walk to the hall, she slowed as the door opened.
Charley emerged, laughter and music spilling out behind him.
“Evening, Jeannette.” He waved at her.
“Are you leaving?” Her spirits took an uptick. If he was cutting out already, her quick departure wouldn’t be such an anomaly.
“No. I’m going over to the truck to whip up another batch of mini tacos. This is a hungry crowd—and no one’s rushing to leave.”
Not what she wanted to hear.
Jeannette dredged up a smile. “I’m not surprised your tacos are disappearing.”
“Thank you. And your shortbread is also a hit. The little girl from the family we’re sponsoring has taken several pieces.” He touched the brim of his Ducks cap. “See you when I get back with my next batch of tacos.”
No, he wouldn’t. She intended to be long gone before he returned.
But she didn’t bother to correct him as he moseyed toward the wharf.
Psyching herself up for the crush of people inside, she pushed through the door.
Based on the shoulder-to-shoulder crowd, it seemed every single person in Hope Harbor had turned out to welcome the Shabo family.
And that worked to her advantage.
She could edge through the clusters of people, find the guests of honor, say her piece, and slip away without anyone noticing.
Tucking her purse against her, Jeannette began to weave through the mob toward the food tables near the front of the room, where she assumed the family was stationed.
Less than ten feet from her destination, a hush fell over the crowd.
Pausing, she rose on tiptoe.
Drat.
Father Murphy and Reverend Baker had separated from the crowd and were ushering the small family toward the stage.
Apparently she’d arrived just in time for the official welcome.
Jeannette cast a longing glance behind her.
The crowd had surged forward, closing up all of the gaps. Trying to backtrack now would draw too much attention.
She was stuck.
Resigned, she refocused on the elevated platform at the end of the room.
Reverend Baker took the mike first, offered a brief welcome, and handed the program over to Father Murphy.
In his usual effusive manner, the padre seconded the welcome, offered a prayer, and introduced the family.
As he talked, Jeannette studied the Shabos, matching up the bios she’d read in the church bulletin to the real people.
Mariam, the matriarch, was fifty-three . . . but with her gray-streaked hair, lined face, and slightly stooped posture, Jeannette would have put her closer to seventy.
Understandable, given all she’d been through. The horrors—and losses—she’d endured would exact a huge physical toll on anyone.
The strain was evident in her son Thomma too. Like his mother, he appeared to be older than his age. The twenty-nine-year-old was far too thin and had a somewhat shell-shocked appearance. He acknowledged his intro with a slight dip of his chin, but unlike his mother, didn’t offer a smile.
Again, understandable. There hadn’t been much happiness in his life in the past couple of years.
As she turned her attention to his daughter, Jeannette’s lips curved up. Holding tight to a Raggedy Ann doll and her grandmother’s hand, Elisa was taking everything in with wide eyes.
Jeannette squinted, scrutinizing the child as an odd sense of déjà vu swept over her.
She’d never seen the girl before, yet Elisa reminded her of someone . . .
Wait.
It was Molly.
The two children didn’t resemble each other in the least, but both had the same sad, somewhat lost demeanor.
A sudden burst of applause jolted Jeannette back to reality, and she joined in the hearty welcome the town was giving the family.
They huddled a bit closer to each other during the ovation, as if they were uncomfortable being in the spotlight. Father Murphy must have sensed that too, because he wrapped up the formalities quickly and let the family blend back into the crowd.
This was her opportunity to say hello and exit.
Jeannette worked her way through the crowd, returning greetings but maintaining a steady forward pace.