Ruth had been here twice before, once for a meeting of a book club out of which she immediately dropped and once for an impromptu craft fair where she bought a pair of earrings that never hung straight and a jar of apple butter because it seemed rude to leave empty-handed. And during the years when she still attended such events, she'd run into Daphne and her husband, Sidney, at concerts and art-show openings and readings. Now she was here for the Monday morning meeting of the dean's mission statement group. She was ten minutes early, so she parked and sat in the car. This was a part of town she liked, with narrow streets and mature trees and casually maintained yards. She felt more at home here than in her own neighborhood, where standards of upkeep were so high she feared one day she'd find a signed petition in her mailbox. Through a bay window she could see Daphne moving about in the dining room, setting the table. Daphne—here she was now, gliding out onto the porch carrying an old-fashioned galvanized aluminum watering can—was a few years older than Ruth.
What do You think about It Will Come To Me (2009)?
