Bridge to a Distant Star Read Online Free PDF Page B

say?”
    “Smell check.”
    Maureen burst into laughter. “Oh, Nessa, you’re the best medicine. I needed this lunch so badly.”
    They rode in companionable silence for a few moments until Vanessa reached over and squeezed her friend’s hand. “Do you think it’s anything serious with Colleen?” Maureen felt her countenance change immediately, and the lightheartedness that had lifted her spirit vanished. She knew that Vanessa could put on an act of irreverence in her humorous response to life. But Maureen also knew that underneath that flippant exterior was a heart full of sensitivity and tender love. When needed, Vanessa wasn’t afraid to let that side of her show. The sudden appearance of that very quality had undone Maureen a number of times before.
    “Not really. It’s just—”
    “Colleen’s being a typical mouthy teen and Bill’s … shall we say, pushing your buttons?”
    Maureen stared at Vanessa’s profile, embarrassed by her friend’s insight. “And how did you gather all that?”
    “Immutable signs.” Flatly stated.
    “Immutable, eh? You into big words today?”
    “Been reading a book on theology. Impressed?”
    “Definitely. But don’t dodge, Nessa. Get back to my ‘ immutable signs.’”
    Vanessa drew a deep breath, prepared to tread softly. “Know how they say skin on a scar will always be thinner and more sensitive?”
    “Sure. I have enough scars to prove that theory.”
    “Well, you’re … thin. Does that even make any sense?” she laughed at herself.
    Maureen kept her gaze straight ahead, staring out with unfocused eyes at the car in front of them. “Bill has always told me that I register every single emotion on my face. I hate that.”
    “So … want to talk about it? Or, maybe … not?”
    Maureen leaned her head against the window. Deciding she just didn’t have the emotional energy to go through it all now and then again with Sherry and Emilie, she said, “I think I’ll wait, Vanessa. It’s just too much—”
    “To plow through twice?” To Maureen’s nod, Vanessa replied, “I understand. And besides,” she gestured toward their destination, “conveniently, we’ve arrived.”
    As they pulled into the restaurant, Maureen pointed out, “Look—there’s Sherry. And Emilie’s car is already here too.” She opened her door, calling out, “Hey, Sherry.”
    Sherry waited, hands on hips. In her typical tailored business suit, Sherry looked very much the professional she was. She kept her light blonde hair neatly bobbed, and the intelligent eyes that peered at them through tortoiseshell-framed glasses were without makeup. What softened Sherry’s entire look, however, was her wide grin and outstretched arms. “Been looking forward to this since we set it up. Give me some hugs, you two.”
    The three linked arms as they walked up the sidewalk. Vanessa conspiratorially winked at Maureen. “The Clarkson family is into decrees these days—more on that topic later, Sherry,” (eliciting another laugh from Maureen) “so I’m gonna propose yet another one: Today, no salads allowed. Only glorious, fatty entrées for us. And dessert. Something tells me we’re all gonna need the happiness that only fat can bring.”
    “Sounds like a divine idea,” Sherry agreed, and all three were laughing together as a smiling host held the door for them.
    The cozy, intimate restaurant was a converted home from the late 1800s, and was one of their favorites. As the three walked in, they noticed the intermingling smells of spices and freshly baked bread, at once enticing and soothing. An assortment of brightly colored flowers—large baskets of pansies—looked welcoming on windowsills and tables scattered throughout the gracious interior. They glanced at each other and grinned in anticipation, hugging each other closer within their locked arms.
    The host, mirroring their happiness, gushed, “Welcome to The Cottage, ladies.”
    “Thank you. We’re meeting one more, Emilie