“Grace’s heart bumped against her chest cavity with what seemed like an audible thump. She pretended to focus her attention on the table of rummage sale goods in front of her.“You heard me.” Lucy folded her arms, scanning the load of furniture in the back of her husband Bob’s pickup. “You said you weren’t much of a decorator. Look at how all these pieces are going to work together. You have a good eye. You really ought to give yourself more credit.”“Oh.” Grace took in a breath of relief. She had... lied, but about more than just her knack for matching upholstery patterns.“The least we can do—and by ‘we’ I mean Bob—is to set up the dinette set.” Lucy blew Bob a kiss as he climbed into the cab of the truck. “I can’t believe you weren’t even going to put a table in there.”Grace tipped a shrug.“Or that you don’t have a bed.” Lucy said. “For goodness sakes, no one over the age of twelve should be expected to spend more than one night on a cot. Bob will have our extra frame all set up by the time you get home.”A current of guilt flowed through Grace.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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