At the town house I showered and changed before I left for Gulf Sands to pick up my nieces. Just in case my mother hadn’t fed them, I stopped by the grocery store on the way.

Fifteen minutes later I was heading for the checkout line when I saw Ella Cramer, dressed casually today. I decided she must live in the neighborhood, too, and unless one of us wanted to change grocers, we had to clear the air.

She started down the pet food aisle when she saw me, and not far from the cat litter I caught up to her. “Ella?”

She turned, one hand still on the handle of the shopping cart. “Yes?”

“I feel bad about the last time I saw you. I had no idea you weren’t at Gracey Group now, but you’ve always been one of my favorite people. I just wondered if we could maybe heal the tension and share a cup of coffee? My treat?” I nodded to the market café by the deli.

“I’m sorry, I have other things I have to do.”

I figured those other things were in the same category as untangling yarn or clipping toenails. “We don’t have to linger. You could give me your recipe for your wonderful turtle cookies.” I smiled, but she didn’t. “Or maybe you could just be honest with me and tell me what in the hell happened.”

“So you can go straight back to your father and tell him I’m complaining about the way I was treated?”

“He just had bypass surgery. We’re going out of our way not to upset him.”

“And your sister?”

“She’s out of town, and by the time she gets back, this will be old news.” I paused. “Old news I don’t plan to recount to anyone in my family.”

“I still don’t see the point.”

“Please?”

As I was growing up, Ella kept a supply of Tootsie Pops in the bottom drawer of her desk, just for me. They had been our secret, but she’d never been able to deny me if I asked nicely. Apparently the habit had held.

She sighed. “All right.”

She didn’t speak again until I was sitting across from her at the café. I watched her carefully doctor her coffee. One packet of sweetener, one thimbleful of cream. She stirred so hard I was afraid I might get sucked into the whirlpool.

I started, hoping to get her talking. “I can’t help thinking there must have been a big misunderstanding. My father valued you above all his employees.”

“Not above your sister.”

I nodded, as if that made sense. “So Wendy was part of the problem?”

“Part?” Her laugh was humorless. “Your sister claimed I made a mistake, a huge mistake, one guaranteed to cost Gracey Group a small fortune. She told me the due date on a project had been changed, so I had more time to complete my part. Of course when the project wasn’t finished by the real due date, she went to your father with evidence that I’d screwed up the timing for everyone.”