Chapter 8
Sunday evening, and I sat around the living room with Elsie, Dayton, and Fay. They’d had a wonderful weekend.
“So, how was your night?” Elsie asked, playing with Fay’s hair. She’d missed her. “You look like you had a good one.”
“I wrote a lot.”
“Ah, I see.”
“Any news from the press in Vancouver?” Dayton asked. “The one you said could be a possible yes?”
“Still waiting,” I said. “But I’m confident.” This was my automatic response to any questions pertaining to my submission process.
“Thanks so much for babysitting Fay.” Elsie stifled a yawn. “Let’s have dinner tomorrow night. I’ll make the curry I made the other time.”
“That sounds great,” I said with as much enthusiasm as I could fake. “I’ll bring dessert.”
At the entrance, I hugged Fay. “You look all grown up with your
