He gave me a surprised look, as though sizing me up. But before he answer, David sauntered in, leaned across the counter to give me a quick but ostentatious kiss, and then seated himself next to Fletcher and held out his hand. Clinkscales. I see you’ve met my lady.” “David Fletcher stammered, yes, I have.” “Uh, I was pleased to see Fletcher a bit discommoded. But then I could hear Gram, this “Kate, is not like you. Be kind to strangers. It’s in the Bible.” I tried to rearrange my Yes, Gram. thoughts as I handed Silas a menu and asked David what he wanted for supper. David’s response was quick. we take some of that chicken stew home and open a “Can good bottle of white wine? I brought some from Dallas.” He had glanced at the day’s specials. sounds good,” Fletcher said. take a bowl, with the house wine.” “That “I’ll don’t serve wine or beer,” I said, and now I put real regret in my voice. “We David didn’t miss a beat. just come home with us, and we’ll share our wine.” David “You knew by now who Silas Fletcher was, and this was a smooth move on his part, but not one necessarily to my liking. And that’s how I ended up eating supper at Gram’s kitchen table with David, whom I adored, and Silas Fletcher, to whom I had taken an instant dislike. I was trying hard to overcome it. But even Huggles, my loveable doodle dog, didn’t give Fletcher the overenthusiastic welcome he usually greeted visitors with, and I took that as a sign.
He gave me a surprised look, as though sizing me up. But before he answer, David sauntered in, leaned across the counter to give me a quick but ostentatious kiss, and then seated himself next to Fletcher and held out his hand. “David Clinkscales. I see you’ve met my lady.” Fletcher stammered, “Uh, yes, I have.” I was pleased to see Fletcher a bit discommoded. But then I could hear Gram, “Kate, this is not like you. Be kind to strangers. It’s in the Bible.” Yes, Gram. I tried to rearrange my thoughts as I handed Silas a menu and asked David what he wanted for supper. David’s response was quick. “Can we take some of that chicken stew home and open a good bottle of white wine? I brought some from Dallas.” He had glanced at the day’s specials. “That sounds good,” Fletcher said. “I’ll take a bowl, with the house wine.” “We don’t serve wine or beer,” I said, and now I put real regret in my voice. David didn’t miss a beat. “You just come home with us, and we’ll share our wine.” David knew by now who Silas Fletcher was, and this was a smooth move on his part, but not one necessarily to my liking. And that’s how I ended up eating supper at Gram’s kitchen table with David, whom I adored, and Silas Fletcher, to whom I had taken an instant dislike. I was trying hard to overcome it. But even Huggles, my loveable doodle dog, didn’t give Fletcher the overenthusiastic welcome he usually greeted visitors with, and I took that as a sign.