It's You by Jane Porter Page A

she worries about you.”
    “Because I’m a dentist?”
    “Because you prefer Phoenix to Napa.”
    “I don’t prefer—” I break off, frown, aware that Dad must have said something to her about me wanting him to move. Or me not wanting to move here. “My dental practice is in Arizona. And I love Arizona. The desert is beautiful. Camelback Mountain is beautiful—” I turn and look at him, brow furrowing. “Your aunt has a lot of opinions.”
    “She does. And she can deliver them in a very cutting tone.”
    “So it’s not just me?”
    He laughs softly, sympathetically. “No, that’s just dear Aunt Edie.”
    “Why is she so rough?”
    “She’s old and she’s lived a challenging life.”
    “Doesn’t everyone?”
    “You should hear her story. It’s interesting.”
    “Hmm.”
    “But she does like your dad. Has quite a soft spot for him. Apparently he’s a very good bridge player.”
    “And that’s all that’s required to earn her affection?”
    “Not affection, but respect. I think his dog stories earned her affection. She’s a big animal lover.”
    “I knew I should have been a dog.”
    He lifts a brow. He’s amused. “Is there a particular breed you fancy?”
    “A beloved lap dog. A Scottie or a spaniel. Or maybe something that could fit in one’s purse and go everywhere.”
    “And you’d be happy in a purse?”
    “Depends on the purse.”
    He studies me a long moment, a glint in his eyes. “I suppose it would.”
    I laugh out loud.
    He cracks the smallest of smiles, and yet his storm blue eyes are full of light.
    I’ve never met this man. I know nothing about him other than what my father has told me and this is the strangest conversation with a stranger. I like it. I feel free somehow. Nothing matters. Everything matters. Andrew would enjoy this moment. He was good with new and novelty. He enjoyed change.
    The warmth inside me recedes.
    I reach up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “I was at your winery last night, for the Concert in the Cellar.”
    “Yes, I know.” He’s still smiling but his expression is different, less playful. “You wore red.”
    I just look at him, unable to think of anything to say.
    “You were with Diana Martin, the florist,” he adds. “I asked about you, but no one knew your name.”
    I snap my mouth closed. My cheeks burn. “I should get back to my dad. He must be worrying about me.”
    “Can’t have that,” he agrees.

SIX

    Edie
    I ’m walking Ruth to the ladies’ room when I glance into the Reading Room and see my great-nephew talking with Alison, the dentist, out on the terrace.
    He’s interested in her. I’m not entirely surprised. He likes smart girls, academic girls. He’s always been more serious than Chad, more interested in the arts, too. As a boy I’d take him to the symphony in the city. I don’t know if he liked the music, but he was always polite, and he’d dress up for the concert, even if it was a matinee, putting on a dress shirt, blazer, and tie.
    He’d take my arm as we crossed the street, and would caution me to watch for traffic, as cars don’t always slow down for people, and then when we reached the other side and we’d step up onto the curb, he’d give my elbow a little squeeze as if letting me know I’d done well. We’d made it.
    Craig is the thoughtful one, but both boys have good manners. Ellie was very strict with Elizabeth when she was a child, stressing the importance of manners. Manners aren’t just about good breeding, they are an essential courtesy and an expression of respect,values drummed into me and Ellie as the daughters of a man who made his career in the Foreign Service.
    I help Ruth into the bathroom stall and step out to give her privacy. Earlier in the week, the management here forbid me from helping Ruth. They say it’s dangerous, and a liability. I’m to get an aide when Ruth must use the lavatory. But where am I to find an aide, and how is Ruth expected to hold it? Yes, they’ve