Chapter 9 ~ Aspen Curio

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Aspen reread Shep's letter for the eighth or ninth time and then set it aside, thinking. After she'd read it the first time, she'd understood why it had taken her old friend over a week to reply to her.

She stirred the pot of soup on Gus and Brigitte's stove top and then sat back down with her pen and stationery box. No words were coming to her mind, though.

"What the heck am I supposed to say. She's responsible for her mother's death and she thinks her father hates her," Aspen said to Bartholomew, the Moneypennys' cat.

"Meeeeerrrrow," said the cat, walking away with a flick of his tail.

"Oh, Aspen! What a pleasant surprise!" said Brigitte, coming into the mansion's kitchen.

"Hi," said Aspen. "I hope it's not a problem that I'm preparing your lunch here today instead of in my own kitchen."

"I like your company, my dear," said Brigitte. "You can make lunch over here every day, if you'd like."

"I figured it made sense. I'm making dinner in here every afternoon. I thought I might as well make lunch in here too, and then I don't have to carry it on that cobblestone path."

"Yes, that works just fine," said Brigitte. Then she cleared her throat and her watery blue eyes met Aspen's eyes. "How's everything in the guest house?"

"Good," said Aspen. She searched Brigitte's face, wondering what she knew.

"You're comfortable there?"

"Sure," said Aspen. "It's a lovely little house and you've decked it out with all the cozy things a person could ask for. I don't think we could fit another quilt or teacup in it without the walls bursting open."

"Is it too cluttered?" asked Brigitte, looking genuinely horrified at the notion.

"No," Aspen laughed. "It's just right."

"And the children. How are they liking it?"

"They love it," said Aspen. That seemed to be the truth. Neither seemed to be picking up on the nightly—and sometimes daily—visitors that were beginning to drive Aspen mad.

"Alright," said Brigitte. There was an awkward pause so Aspen stirred the soup a little more and added a pinch of salt to it.

"What about school?" Brigitte said brightly. "Are Stormy and Normy enjoying it?"

"They seem to be fitting right in," said Aspen. "They've each made friends already."

"Oh, how wonderful. The Burgy Blossom school district is the best in the state. I suppose you already knew that when you decided to move here."

"Oh, of course," said Aspen, even though it wasn't the kind of thing she'd even considered.

"You know," said Brigitte, "the cable sometimes doesn't come in so well in the guest house."

"I haven't noticed a problem."

"Well, if you do—" Brigitte said.

"I'm not that much of a television watcher," Aspen interrupted. "I'd just read a book."

"But if you were wanting to watch a program and you were having any trouble... with reception," said Brigitte, "you'd be welcome to use our den here at night. We're in bed by eight or nine at the latest. If you wanted to come back here after you tuck in the kids and watch television for an hour or two, you'd be more than welcome to."

Aspen nodded. "Maybe," she said. "I appreciate the offer."

"Gus and I really think you're doing a nice job. We'd hate to lose you," said Brigitte. She said it rather... forcibly. Desperately almost.

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