Vi Agra Falls Read Online Free PDF Page B

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    The weather had turned almost too warm, with little rain and a prognosis of drought for the usually moist region. When Judith had any spare time off from running the B&B, she was busy in the garden, trying to prevent her flowers, shrubs, and trees from dying for lack of water.
    On the last Friday of July, a For Sale sign went up at the corner house where Miko Swanson lived. When Judith returned from Falstaff’s grocery that afternoon she stopped to talk to Mrs. Swanson, who was picking dead leaves from some pansies in a planter on her front porch.
    â€œWe’re going to miss you,” Judith said to the elderly Japanese widow. “I hope you’ll always feel free to drop by.”
    Mrs. Swanson smiled warmly. “I shall miss all of you, too. So many years, yet I know it’s time to be sensible and acceptmy daughter’s kind offer to live with her and her family. It’s not so far away, after all, only over on the bluff.” She motioned at the house next door. “I must admit, I don’t miss that violinist. Oh, I was a bit… anxious when I learned that Mrs. Flynn had come back.” Mrs. Swanson made a dismissive gesture. “That is, Mrs. Buss . But all has been quiet there. They go sailing often, I think.”
    â€œVivian—Mrs. Buss—was going to buy her husband a yacht,” Judith said. “Dare I ask the price of your house?”
    Mrs. Swanson pointed to the box below the For Sale sign. “Oh, please take one of those flyers. They list all the details. The real estate agent says he can sell it for seven hundred thousand dollars. Imagine! My husband and I paid twelve thousand for this house almost fifty years ago.”
    â€œTypical,” Judith murmured. “My grandparents paid four thousand for ours back in the nineteen-thirties.”
    Mrs. Swanson shook her head. “I don’t know how young couples can afford to live around here. That is, the ones who don’t make those big whatever-you-call-them salaries.”
    â€œDot-com millionaires, mostly,” Judith said. “Some are even billionaires.” She paused as a plump, pretty, dark-haired young woman came out of Vivian’s house next door. “Who’s that?” Judith murmured.
    Mrs. Swanson moved closer to the sidewalk for a better view. The woman was heading their way. “The maid,” she whispered. “Or secretary. Hello, Adelita,” she said in a much louder voice.
    Adelita smiled. “Hello, Mrs. Swanson.” She had a slight accent and large, limpid black eyes. “How are you today?”
    â€œReasonably well,” Mrs. Swanson replied. “I do not believe you’ve met one of our neighbors. This is Mrs. Flynn, who owns the bed-and-breakfast.”
    â€œOh, yes,” Adelita said. “I have heard much about you.”
    I’ll bet you have , Judith thought. “Mrs. Buss and I go wayback,” she said, shaking the young woman’s hand. “I understand you work for her. Or is it for Mr. Buss?”
    â€œI work for both,” she said. “I am what they call an assistant.”
    Judith nodded. “Did you come with them from Florida?”
    â€œYes.” Adelita made an expansive gesture. “This is very different. I was born in Mexico. Here is…very northern. Not so hot, not so sweating.”
    â€œDo you live nearby?” Judith inquired.
    Adelita’s smile widened. “Oh, very! I live with Mr. and Mrs. Buss.”
    â€œReally?” Judith recalled that the owners before Vivian had raised two children in the small bungalow. “That’s convenient.”
    Adelita nodded. “Now I must go. I walk up Heraldsgate Avenue to the hilltop. It makes for good exercise.” She said good-bye before continuing on her way.
    â€œAdelita seems very sweet,” Mrs. Swanson remarked. “I’ve visited with her over the fence. Sometimes she gardens.” The older woman sighed.