“Oh, good, then you’ll come? I was afraid you’d be working.” Claire set down the parcels and hooked her arm in Connie’s. “Cake sounds terrific. Can I get you a cup of coffee? I just made a fresh pot. Or tea? I have hot water on the range.”
“Tea sounds nice. It’s getting cold out there. Feels like it could snow.” Connie unwound her shawl and flung it on the wide oak counter. Claire produced a china pot from behind the counter and placed a few fragrant leaves in the bottom. She poured in hot water and set the pot aside to steep. “I get so tired of coffee. I’ve started carrying a variety of teas here, and I’ve been trying them all.” She lifted the lid from a glass candy jar. “Caramel? They just arrived from St. Joe.”
Connie smiled. Claire had a sweet tooth. It was a miracle she was as trim as a girl. In fact, that’s how they became acquainted years ago—over slices of Connie’s peach pie.
The two friends leaned on the counter, discussing details for Claire’s party, sipping hot tea, and nibbling on the best caramels Connie had ever had. After thirty minutes of heart-filling girl talk, Connie remembered the eggs.
Claire stepped into the storeroom to retrieve them. The front door swung open, and Emily came tearing in. “Andy’s fallen! Come quick! I think he busted his arm!”
Connie gulped, yanked on her shawl, and hollered, “Claire!”
Her friend swung through the storeroom door. “I heard. Go! I’ll get Dr. Connor.”
Connie sprinted down the street, praying all the while. She hurried around the back of her building. Andy sprawled on the ground, holding his arm. She dropped to her knees and cradled him carefully. “You okay, baby? Anything else hurt?”
The boy’s face was pale, but he shook his head. “Just my arm, Ma.”
She closed her eyes. “Lord, please let Andy be all right. Lord, he’s all I’ve got left of Percy. Please. And let the doctor get here soon.” When she opened her eyes, Dr. Connor was hurrying through the gate. “Thank you, Lord.”
She held her son still while the doctor inspected the boy’s left wrist. “Andy, can you tell me what happened?” He probed the swollen flesh, his long fingers gentle yet thorough.
Andy squeezed his eyes shut and sucked a breath through his teeth. “I saw an apple, a big, shiny one. I wanted it for Emily, but my foot slipped. I tried to catch myself, but I couldn’t hold on. Guess I fell.” He leaned back into Connie’s bosom. “Sorry, Ma. Don’t be mad.”
“Honey, I’m not mad, just worried for you. But everything’s going to be all right. Isn’t that so, Dr. Connor?”
