Return to Little Hills by Janice Macdonald

Author:Janice Macdonald [Macdonald, Janice]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin Enterprises
Published: 2012-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

AND NOW he stood in the living room, amidst all the knickknacks and the lumpy armchairs with their knitted afghans and sprung seats. Maude had been sitting at the window with Tinkerbell in her lap and Panda and Poochie at her feet—watching for them, Edie guessed, although Maude vigorously denied it.

“I’ve got more to do with my life than sit around waiting for my daughter to come home. How are you, Peter? You like music? Gramophone records.” Tinkerbell leaped to the floor, as Maude eased herself up from the armchair, took his hand and led him over to the old record cabinet. “Know how old that is? Edith, make Peter some coffee.”

“We just had coffee, Mom. I’ll make some for you if you don’t think it will keep you awake all night.” Maude, impossibly tiny beside Peter, was flitting around the room now, thrusting framed pictures at him. Edie caught Peter’s eye and he winked, clearly enjoying himself. I want the freedom to walk away, she’d told him.

“Look at all these records.” Maude flung open the cabinet door to show Peter the shelves of old vinyl albums inside. “What about a glass of port? You smell something burning?”

Edie sniffed. “Do you have something in the oven?”

“Chicken potpie in the oven,” Maude said. “Should be just about done. Here, Peter, play this one. I’ll have the pie with some of that potato salad from yesterday, Edith. Bring it all in on the green tray.”

Edie glanced at her watch. “Isn’t it kind of late for you to be eating, Mom?”

“No, not the coleslaw. Don’t like coleslaw,” she told Peter. “Never have. Bring it in on a tray, Edith. The green one.”

In the kitchen, the oven timer was chiming. Edie took the pie out of the oven and set it on a tray. She took a knife and fork from the drawer and tore off a piece of paper towel. From the living room, she heard a crackly old World War II song that she remembered hearing in childhood. “I don’t eat coleslaw, never have,” Maude was telling Peter as Edie set the tray down on her mother’s lap.

“She doesn’t like the green peppers,” Edie said, sotto voce.

“Don’t like the green peppers,” Maude said.

Edie winked at Peter. “Do I know my mom, or what?”

“My husband used to collect them,” Maude said.

“Gramophone records,” Edie murmured to Peter, who had lifted an album out of its cover. “Not green peppers.”

“Hundreds of them,” Maude said. “I told Vivian to take them, but she’s not interested. Ray bought one of those…deedeedee things.”

“DVDs.” Edie sat on the floor next to Peter. “And Edie doesn’t want them because she doesn’t have any room in her apartment.”

“And Edie doesn’t want them,” Maude said. “No room in her apartment, she said.”

Edie felt Peter clasp her ankle. Still sorting through albums, he was grinning. After he took his hand away, she could still feel his fingers. She wanted to just sit there and look at him. Peter Darling. If she were writing an article, she mused, how would she describe him? Languidly elegant, perhaps.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.