“Okay! Up,” she said, prodding him. “It’s Sunday,” Nat groaned. “I always sleep in on Sunday.” “Not this Sunday, you don’t,” she replied, giving him an extra push. “I warned you last night that my family’s coming for lunch today and I’ve things to do.” “I could stay for lunch, too . . .” He paused for a moment. “On the other hand, I don’t think I could face your Barbara’s cold disapproval across the dining room table.” He gave a martyred sigh. “I’ll cook breakfast.” As soon as he left, Maggie scooted up the stairs to tidy the bedroom, have a quick shower and dress. Luckily, she had prepared most of the food the day before, so there was little to do before her visitors arrived. Emily, sitting contentedly in the open doorway, stretched in the warmth of the sun and kept an eye on Maggie as she put the finishing touches to the salad. Maggie’s youngest daughter, Midge, arrived first, and after inspecting the house from top to bottom and giving full approval, turned and put her arms around her mother.
