I don't know how long they'll take."
"Can I come?" John was such a dear boy, anxious to go and see and do. He'd raced into the world a full month early and had yet to stop.
"No, sweetie, you've got kindergarten this morning."
His face fell instantly but he accepted her refusal with a good-natured shrug and quickly disappeared down the hallway to join his older brother.
"I thought I'd go down Blossom Street and check out that yarn store," Elise informed her daughter.
She could tell Aurora was pleased about her renewed interest in knitting. After a recent visit to her attorney's office, Elise had walked down the renovated street and noticed the yarn store, which she'd mentioned to Aurora.
Elise was pleasantly surprised by the changes on Blossom Street. For years the area had been an eyesore, with its seedy-looking establishments. The renovations weren't what she'd expected. Instead of tearing down the older buildings, the architect had refurbished what was already there and renewed a deteriorating neighborhood. The shops were appealing with awnings and flowers and sidewalk displays. The impression she'd been left with was of a warmly traditional neighborhood, a lovely little world unto itself. It was hard to believe that just a few blocks over, high-rises stretched toward the sky. Just down the hill were the huge financial enterprises, insurance complexes and other major businesses that made up downtown Seattle.
While looking in the window of A Good Yarn, Elise had noticed a sign that advertised knitting classes. She might not be able to enjoy her retirement the way she'd hoped, but she wasn't going to become a recluse afraid to spend a dime, either. Besides, knitting might keep her mind off her financial difficulties.
After a cup of tea in her room, Elise dressed for the day. She'd maintained her slim figure and chose a peach-colored pantsuit that was both stylish and comfortable. Although it was early June and sunny, the weather remained cool and she would need the matching jacket once she got outside. She pinned a small pink cameo over the top closure of her white blouse. It was the nicest piece of jewelry she owned. Maverick had given it to her before they were even married and she loved it and wore it often.
To his credit, Maverick had stayed in touch with their daughter, although not as regularly as Elise felt he should. For her own part, she wanted nothing to do with him, but she didn't begrudge Aurora the opportunity to know her father; she never had. She considered their relationship entirely separate from her. She paused, frowning. Twice that morning she'd thought about Maverick. It wasn't as though she ever really forgot him - how could she with her grandson so physically similar - but she rarely indulged her memories of him. She didn't want to think about him or remember the days and nights of love.
After running a brush through her shoulder-length brown hair, she tied it back at the nape of her neck. Untouched by gray, it was her one vanity. Her hand froze as yet another memory wrapped itself around her heart. Maverick had loved her hair down. She'd worn it in a tidy bun at the library but at the end of the day, the first thing he did was reach for the pins to loosen her thick tresses. "Rapunzel, Rapunzel," he'd whisper and she'd smile.... Irritated, she tightened her lips and cast the thought from her mind.
Aurora was pouring milk into bowls of cereal when Elise walked into the kitchen.
"You look nice, Mom," she commented.
Compliments embarrassed Elise and she dismissed her daughter's words with a shake of her head.
"Have a good day at school," Elise told the boys as she opened the front door.
They watched her leave, their faces glum, as if she'd abandoned them to some malicious fate. Her grandsons were her joy but she hardly knew how Aurora managed. She marveled at her daughter's skill as a wife and mother.
Elise sometimes feared she'd failed on both counts. She was never meant to be a wife, and her two years of married life had proved as much. Aurora was the one treasure she'd managed to salvage from that shipwreck of a marriage. Her daughter, as tall as her father at six feet, was a blessing beyond compare. In more ways than Elise cared to admit, they'd grown up together. Thankfully they'd stayed close.
Maverick had faithfully paid his child support each month, and when the spirit moved him, he'd phoned Aurora from