interested in it, too. Katie, I see your fingernails are back to normal."
Katie and Denise had stopped by her table, but clearly had no intention of sitting with a mother in public. "The polish took forever to get off. That glue is really tough. You weren't waiting for us, were you?" Katie asked, glancing around to see if anybody had noticed them speaking to Jane. Her gaze lingered for a long moment on the handsome omelet chef.
"Don't worry, I'm leaving in a minute."
"Mom, there was the neatest guy in the lobby. And he was just leaving! Isn't that just morbid?" Katie glanced again at the buffet table, and especially at the handsome omelet maker.
"Hideous," Jane agreed. "Fate deals us these blows sometimes. Katie, that young man is working. Don't try to take up his time, or he could get in trouble with his boss."
"What young man?" Katie asked, all offended innocence.
"The one you're staring at."
"Mother!"
"I'm off to explore. I'll be back here at lunchtime. I'd appreciate it if you'd check in with me then, or leave a note at the cabin."
"I'm not a baby!" Katie said, sticking out her lower lip.
"No, but I'm a mother for life."
I can't win
, Jane thought wryly as she headed for the lost-and-found.
If I don't pay enough attention, I'm uncaring. If I show too much concern, I'm over
bearing.
The saving factor was that time passes and teenage girls eventually grow up. Her mother had once told her that about the time her daughters got to be nice young women she could actually like, they went away. There were days when Jane felt that that time couldn't come soon enough.
The lost-and-found was an old-fashioned cloakroom just off the entrance to the hotel. She joined another woman who was rummaging among the items on the shallow shelves. Jane had brought along a heavy jacket and a good, warm stocking cap, as well as insulated boots that were cozy but made her walk like a robot. She added a soft wool muffler and a pair of darkly shaded goggles. Fearing her fur-lined leather gloves might not be warm enough, she put on a fat pair of padded mittens over them. She took a quick glance in the mirror on the back of the cloakroom door and decided the look was Pillsbury Doughboy-ish, but practical.
She waddled out the front door of the hotel and began to follow the road back up toward the Eagle's Nest group of cabins, where she would set out from. Unfortunately, as she toiled chubbily up the hill, she met a couple of young women coming down the road. Jane was sweaty and out of breath. They were all spandex, long, easy strides, flowing tresses, and breezy tans.
I don't think I looked twenty-five when I was twenty-five
, Jane thought grouchily. As soon as they were out of sight, she sat down on an artfully fallen tree at the side of the road to catch her breath.
By the time she'd reached the condo, she realized that she'd badly misjudged in the matter of wardrobe. It was cold, but the air was so thin and dry that it didn't feel cold. In fact, when she was in the sun, she felt downright hot in all those layers. She decided to shed several of them before continuing. Patting herself down, she found her room key in her back trouser pocket and let herself into the cabin.
A pretty young woman with glossy black hair in a bun was sitting on the floor.
"I'm sorry, I must have the wrong—" Jane babbled.
The girl rose quickly. "No, no. You must be Mrs. Jeffry. I'm here to clean. I was just petting your dog."
And sure enough, as she got up, she revealed Willard, belly-up, on the rug in front of the fireplace.
"He probably told you he'd been abandoned and that nobody loved him. Right?"
The girl's dark eyes sparkled. "Right. And that he hadn't been fed for four days."
Jane shook her head. "He's such a liar."
"I think he's a big sweetheart. Are you trying to get out of that jacket?"
"Yes. I know it looks more like a seizure of some kind, but the zipper's stuck, I think."
The young woman helped her. Up close, she was stunningly pretty,
William W. Johnstone, J. A. Johnstone