Maine - J. Courtney Sullivan [148]
She didn’t tell her niece this now. It was good that Maggie didn’t remember it. She just said, “It’s nice to spend a bit of time with you, sweetheart,” and left it at that.
A while later, Maggie headed to the cottage for a nap. It really hadn’t been that long since she’d gotten out of bed. Ann Marie was worried about her. She said, “Rest up and I’ll come get you when it’s time for sandwiches.”
Maybe she’d try to talk to Maggie in the afternoon about whatever she had on her mind. Perhaps they could take a walk on the beach. Or Ann Marie could drive Maggie to Antiques on Nine and buy her something for her apartment to cheer her up, the way she had done with Patty before she got married.
Father Donnelly drove Alice home around noon and was quickly persuaded to join them for lunch, even though he had a two o’clock meeting.
“I’ve got it just about ready,” Ann Marie said. “Give me fifteen minutes?”
Alice went out to the front yard to pick some daylilies for the table. Father Donnelly said he wanted to take one more crack at the broken garbage disposal. Ann Marie decided to serve the chicken on croissants she had gotten at the Shop ’n Save two days earlier. She cut all eight of them in half and placed them on a baking sheet in a warm oven.
“You’re too good to us,” she told the priest as she sliced a tomato. “But really, you shouldn’t feel as though you have to do everything around here. Alice isn’t alone, you know.”
“It’s no trouble,” he said. “I enjoy it. And anyway, my helping out is the least I can do, considering.”
Down on all fours, he fiddled under the sink for a bit. She placed the tomato slices on a plate and set to chopping a red onion. She thought his words over, rolled them around in her head. It wasn’t the first time he had said it.
Finally she asked, “Considering what?”
“You don’t know what your family’s generosity means to the church,” he said. “It’s something we can count on, which is a precious gift, especially these days.”
She smiled. She had no idea what he was referring to. Had Alice given St. Michael’s a lot of money? Ann Marie felt uneasy. She wondered if Pat knew. She took a pitcher down from a high shelf in the pantry. There were so many fewer dishes here than she remembered. She felt pleased that Alice had finally taken her advice and decluttered a bit.
Ann Marie cracked a tray of ice cubes, plopping half of them into the pitcher. Then she took the pitcher to the sink.
“Okay if I turn the water on for a sec?” she asked.
“Absolutely.” He climbed to his feet. “I don’t think I have the right part for this anyway. I’ll have to go up to the hardware store in York and see what they’ve got. I can come back after my meeting.”
Three visits to the house in a single day? She said a silent prayer that Alice hadn’t given the grandchildren’s inheritance away.
“Have you always been so handy?” she asked. She filled the pitcher and set it on the table, alongside the tomatoes and onions and the bowl of chicken salad. She removed the croissants from the oven.
“Not until I moved into a rectory where the former guy in charge thought the way to deal with a leaky roof was to buy more pots.”
She forced out a chuckle.
“Needless to say, moving into this house will certainly be an upgrade,” he said.
Ann Marie felt her heart speed up. “I’m sorry?”
The strangest thought went through her head: Was the priest somehow involved with Alice? She wasn’t sure she could take that. Though her mother-in-law had always been flirtatious, she had never once seemed sexual.
His cheeks grew pink. “I apologize. I shouldn’t have said that. Naturally we hope—well, we know—it will be many years. But being included in someone’s estate planning is the best we can ask for. It was beyond kind of your family, that’s all I’m saying. We’re so grateful.”
“Of course,” she said, trying to understand. “So, you mean …”
Had Alice given him their home? She told herself not to look too