“I’m Olive,” her daughter said cheerfully.
“I know you are, honey. You are the cutest thing.”
Emma focused on her crepes as Pam came into the kitchen.
“Sylvia, hello, my dear. You are looking so adorable. I love that T-shirt.”
Emma’s grandmother was wearing a shirt that said Still Raising Hell, Just at a Lower Volume.
“Thanks. I made it myself at the senior center. They have a screen printing class every month or so, and we are able to design our own.”
“How fun.”
“I can make you one if you want.”
Pam shook her head. “No way. That’s a one-of-a-kind for you. I don’t want to steal your great T-shirt.”
Emma suspected Pam would not be caught dead wearing anything of the sort.
“Would you like a crepe or two? They’re delicious. Emma made them.”
Emma fought the childish urge to grab the plate and hide it behind her back.
“I remember back in the day you loved to cook,” Pam said. “Your dad always loved to pass around the cookies you made to everyone in the office. He was always so proud of you.”
Emma’s fingers tightened on her fork so she didn’t stab Pam in the eye. She did not want to sit here at this table and listen to her talk about Gary.
“As delicious as I’m sure your crepes are, I have to pass thistime. We’re going out for brunch and I don’t want to be too full. It’s lovely to see you both, though.”
Neither she nor her grandmother answered and after a startled pause, Pam turned to Rosie again. “I should go.”
“Thanks for going out of your way to drop off the book. It could have waited until Monday.”
“I know but I wanted to get it to you while I was still thinking about it.”
To Emma’s vast relief, the two women walked out into the foyer.
“Are you all right?”
Emma looked over at her grandmother.
“I can hardly stand to be in the same room with her. She came into the bookstore a few days ago, and it was all I could do to be polite.”
If Emma did end up working at Lucas Construction in any kind of leadership capacity, one of the very first things she planned was to figure out a way to push out Pam, no matter what it took. There was no way she could work with the other woman.
Sylvia sighed. “You really need to tell your mom the truth.”
“No. Absolutely not.”
“You can’t carry this burden on your own forever.”
“I’m not telling her. It will break her heart.”
“Maybe I’ll tell her, then.”
“Grandma, you can’t. Let her mourn my dad in peace.”
“It’s eating you up inside.”