Man's Best Friend (The Dogmothers #5) - Roxanne St. Claire Page 0,83

but I’m only missing social studies and PE.”

Molly gave an apologetic look. “I know, worst mother ever. But she’s number one in her class. Come on, let’s take Judah back to his room. I think you’re going to like what we did.”

Touched and a little overwhelmed, Evie followed, but Declan snagged her arm as she passed. “I’m going to run out for a little bit, but I should be back in a few hours.”

“Okay.” She frowned. “Do you work at five today?”

“Yeah, but I have a quick errand to do, then I’ll see you. You’re in good hands.”

“Many of them,” she agreed, tempted to give him a kiss goodbye. But Molly urged her on and took her past the kitchen and around the back stairs to what Grandmama had called the “servant’s quarters,” but her own mother had referred to it as “that little room downstairs.”

“Ta-da!” Pru said, leading the way. “We’ve created a suite for Judah and a place for you.”

Under the window that looked out on the backyard, they’d placed a cushy new dog bed with blankets and a pillow embroidered with his name and the words Your Best Friend Leaves Paw Prints on Your Heart, all decorated with those very paw prints and hearts.

“Gramma Finnie?” she guessed.

“Who else?” Molly laughed.

His food and water bowls were inches away, along with a few new chew toys she didn’t recognize. “You guys thought of everything.”

Molly slid an arm around her and gave her a hug while Pru slowly led Judah to his new bed.

“Here you go, buddy,” Pru said, gently encouraging him to lie down.

“Are you exhausted?” Molly asked Evie. “Hungry? Wish we’d all leave?”

A burst of laughter came from the kitchen, making Evie shake her head. “Granddaddy is so happy,” she said. “And I’m glad you’re all here.”

“Well, this one does have to get to school before calculus starts.” Molly gave Pru a nudge. “Let’s move it, Prudence.”

After she walked Molly and Pru out, Evie came back to the kitchen, poured some coffee, and joined the group at the table. Granddaddy was seated at the head, sipping tea, while Yiayia and Gramma Finnie flanked him, hanging on every word.

“Well, this turned into a party,” she said.

“’Tis always a festive day when a dog comes home from the hospital, lass.”

“Kind of like a baby,” Yiayia said, making Evie nearly snort her coffee out her nose.

“You…” She pointed from one oldster to the next. “You all are nuts and unbelievably transparent.” And, possibly, very effective.

“Are we?” Yiayia asked. “I think we’re very smart. Although I have to say, the piano thing was Finnie’s idea.”

“What piano thing?”

The three of them shared a look so heavy with unspoken words she half expected an organ chord to play a sudden accompaniment. But Gramma Finnie shook her head, and Yiayia looked down, and Granddaddy was suddenly preoccupied with his tea.

“Have a cookie, lass,” Gramma Finnie said, pushing a plate toward her.

“They’re kourabiedes,” Yiayia said. “And not your standard Greek cookie, but my grandson Alex’s secret recipe.”

“I heard he cooks like a god.” Evie eyed the older woman, still not able to figure her out. Or her obsession with that damned piano. “So thank you.”

“Did you know Finola and my Penny sang in the church choir together?” Granddaddy suddenly said.

“I think I did.” Evie took a cookie, happy for the change of subject. “Tell me your best memory of her.”

“Oh, lass, there are so many. Like the time she reached around Judy Logan and covered her mouth with her hand during her completely off-key soprano line in the middle of the ten-thirty service.”

“Wait,” Evie said. “My grandmother? Madam Proper?”

“Proper schmopper.” Gramma Finnie slid a look to Granddaddy. “Not at the poker table.”

Evie almost choked. “She played poker?”

“Choir poker is the best poker.” Gramma Finnie gave a playful grin.

“Oh, let’s play some cards now,” Granddaddy suggested.

At the unanimous response, Evie got up and found a deck in a kitchen drawer, joining in on a few hands and checking on Judah every few minutes. She was barely aware of the time that passed while three people, whose combined age was more than two hundred and fifty years old, played cards, not one of them wanting to lose.

During the game, they shared snippets of their lives and filled her heart and mind with stories about her grandmother and each other. Tales that Evie hoped to sit at this very table and share with her grandchildren someday.

Was that possible? Could that dream—

She was pulled from her reverie by a text

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