leg? A few times she lost the pieces, and I can still see her wailing and flailing because the pirate ship couldn’t be completed or the spaceship wasn’t perfect. She’d fuss a little while, and then she’d tear it apart all the way down to that little green sheet thing. Then she would build her own project. Remember?”
“She was always so creative.”
Tippy reached for Daphne’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Ellery’s got some pieces missing right now, and that means she’s going to have to figure out how to make something different of her life. You can’t do that for her because it’s her little green sheet thingy to build upon. You’ve got your own project, my love. So let her figure it out. You can’t fix what’s wrong with her this time, Mama.”
Daphne felt her heart sink because she knew Tippy Lou was right. The older woman may not have had her own children, but her wide taste in reading paired with her astute observations after teaching for thirty years had given Tippy incredible insight into relationships. Her advice was usually spot-on. Daphne’s mother, Norma, was likely high-fiving her old friend for the wisdom she’d imparted . . . if Daphne’s mother were prone to high-fiving someone, which she was not because she was way too proper to slap hands in such an undignified manner. Well, at least she wouldn’t have done it anywhere except behind closed doors. “That’s good advice.”
“So take it.”
“I guess I will.” Daphne finished the last of her tea, rose, and set the cup in the sink.
Tippy Lou cleared her throat.
Daphne turned. “I’ll try really hard. I promise.”
“Good.”
“Let’s change the subject. Did I tell you I have a date? Like a legit date?” Daphne glanced over at Tippy Lou, trying not to smile because she knew the older woman would be pleased.
“What? With who?”
Daphne grinned. “The vineyard owner.”
“The one Rex embarrassed you in front of?”
“Yep. I’ll be going on the first real date of my life next Friday night.”
Tippy laughed. “Look at my girl growing up. Her first date.”
“It’s about freaking time,” Daphne said, then whistled for Jonas. The mutt begrudgingly rose from his warm patch of sunshine.
Daphne totally understood wanting to bask in the rays. Something about being at Tippy Lou’s made a person want to stay put and enjoy the simplicity for as long as possible. The avocado-green, harvest-gold, shagged comfort of the old farmhouse was a time warp away from the harsh reality of life outside the doorstep.
But eventually, a gal had to step outside and face the real world.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Daphne,
Since you haven’t answered my last few emails, I’m assuming we’re moving beyond emails to texting? I’m actually good with that, but I have to say, I have enjoyed opening my in-box more in the past few months than I ever have before. There’s something romantic (dare I say that?) about corresponding via the written word. Great love letters of the past have always intrigued me—there’s something so intentional about writing a letter or, in our case, an email. I’ve felt a bit like Tom Hanks in You’ve Got Mail, wondering about you behind that screen. Still, I’m very pleased that we have moved beyond mere words to starting something more. I’m looking forward to dinner next weekend.
Best,
Evan
“You want some more pasta?” Ellery asked Josh before snapping the lid onto the bowl and setting it back in the fridge. She slid her cell phone in her pocket, berating herself for looking at email and messages when she finally had Josh’s full attention. And she didn’t know what to do about Evan. Obviously her mother and Evan were going out, so it wouldn’t be long before the man figured out that he really didn’t know Daphne. And that the person he’d been emailing was a phony.
“No, thanks. Dinner was good, honey,” he said, sipping the last of the wine they’d opened. For once, they had eaten dinner together at their pretty glass-topped bistro in the nook of their town house. Ellery couldn’t remember if they had ever used it after moving in. Usually the table held junk mail and Josh’s study materials. She should have cleared it off, bought flowers, and set out real dishes before now, and maybe they would have had more dinners together.
Or not.
Josh didn’t seem to be swayed about where he ate. Only by how much studying he needed to do. Still, she was happy that her renewed commitment to the plan was already working. She had assumed