“Amen!” The word was a resounding shout.
“Alphi, cut that ribbon.”
He grinned up at her and closed the handles of the scissors so the huge blue ribbon fell into two pieces.
Roger took the mike. “Welcome, everyone, shop away, and join us for the barbeque provided by AES and our friends.” He turned and gave his wife a smacking kiss, to the delight of the throng.
Hope and Roger shook hands with those around them, while the rest of the Girl Squad gathered around Andy and Amadea Faith Benson.
“That is the most beautiful baby I’ve ever seen,” murmured Clarice.
“You say that every time you see her.” Julia gave her friend a hug.
Andy juggled the infant in her bright yellow-and-white matching dress, hat, and booties. “Hey, baby girl, you are one loved child.”
Amadea Faith stretched her arms and made baby noises without even opening her eyes, then settled back into her nap. Dark curls peeped out from under the rim of her bonnet.
“Your mama named you one pretty name.”
“It means ‘loved of God.’” Clarice touched the tiny hand with a gentle finger. “She is so precious. Hope says that since all the grandparents are gone, I get to be the official grandma.”
“Good thing.” Julia glanced around at the crowds. “Can you believe how many showed up?”
“Elephant ears, get your elephant ears over here.” Celia could be heard above the piping flute and the guitarist, the laughter and the buying and the selling. Groups stood around visiting, and a roving man with a camcorder took some footage of the baby.
“Let’s go sit on the back porch in the shade so we can visit,” Andy said, nodding toward the house, now painted a blue gray, with white and navy trim, and a touch of lavender.
“I’ll tell Hope.” Clarice set off.
Julia and Andy waved and paused to chat with people they knew.
“Not a good day for selling scarves and things, eh, Starshine?” Andy smiled at the woman, who smiled back, showing off her new dental work.
“Some celebration anyway. Look around—old folks, new ones. This move is a great thing.” Starshine reached for a package on the table. “Give this to Hope, will you?”
“Sure, you knit something for the baby.”
“Of course.” She motioned to the fine needles she had inserted in a skein of soft baby yarn. “You have no idea how many baby things I’ve sold. Hadn’t thought of that before.”
“You and I need to talk. I’m thinking some of your scarves and hats might do well in my Lavender Meadows catalogue. You willing?”
“Does San Francisco get fog?”
“Good. See you later.” She and Julia made their way to the porch, where they could see over the long tables where people were already eating.
“That was a good thing.” Julia nodded. “Here, let me hold her.”
Andy handed her the baby.
“I remember when Cyndy was this small. So hard to believe.”
“They sure grow up fast.”
Clarice came up the steps with three elephant ears in their flat containers. “Celia sent these over. Said we all needed a treat.”
“Bless that woman.” Andy took hers and broke off a bite. “You know I’d never had an elephant ear until I visited the market that first time.”
“You’d been deprived.” Julia held hers carefully, so as not to drop sugar and cinnamon on the sleeping baby. “Clarice, I got another letter yesterday. The court said that all of your property will be held until after the trial. Sorry.”
“No problem, long as it is all safe.” She eyed the rings on her fingers. “I’m kinda getting used to these. And every time I look at them I think, He won’t be seeing diamonds for a long time. The jerk.”
The three chuckled together.
“Can a man join you, or is this a hen party?” Martin held out a cardboard carton with containers of coffee. “I came bearing gifts.”
“Bless you, of course you can join us.” Clarice took one of the proffered cups and lifted it in salute. “Smart man.”
That late afternoon, back at their house, which would soon be Julia’s, Andy and Martin sat in chairs out on the deck in front of the loft.
“This was such a good idea.” Andy leaned back so she could look up in the treetops. “I feel like we have a tree house here.” Martin had the deck built one time she was gone to surprise her.
“They should be coming.”
“Who?”
“They come about five or so.”
“Who?”
“Wait and see.”
“Martin.” Andy shook her head. “You have been so secretive, what’s going on?”
“Just wait.” He poured her another glass of cranberry punch. Comet lay at his feet, her tail brushing the redwood decking.
Andy closed her eyes, enjoying the rustle of the leaves in the slight breeze. “What’s that noise?”
“Here they come.” He leaned forward, scoping the sky. Comet sat up.
A squawking and shrieking noise came closer. One bright green bird with a red head fluttered around and landed on the bird feeder, eyeing the humans and the dog, before picking up a sunflower seed.
“One of the parrots. Martin, you … ” Andy stared at the bird, her smile growing wider as several brilliantly colored birds joined the first and fought over the other feeders lining the deck rail. Even while they ate, the raucous calling and castigating continued.
“They usually come at this time. That’s why I was in such a hurry to get back here.”
“And you never told me.”
“I wanted to surprise you, so I’ve been making sure they have lots of food here. Julia’s been keeping the watch too.”
“I got to see the parrots. J House and the Saturday Market are a going concern. The baby is an absolute doll. And you, Martin, what an incredible thing to do.” She laughed as one bird hung upside down. “What kind are they?”
“Cherry-headed conures. I was so afraid they wouldn’t come today. They don’t all the time.”
“And tomorrow we head home.”
“Right. But this will be our other home.” They had kept the loft for themselves and leased the rest of the house to Julia.
Andy watched the squabbling birds and chuckled again. “Thank you, Martin. For everything.” And to quote a friend of mine, Big Dad, thank You for being our real home.
About the Author
LAURAINE SNELLING is a member of the more-than-two-million-books-in-print club, but then, she was a mother of three teenagers with a dream to write “horse books for kids.” Her Norwegian heritage spurred her to craft An Untamed Land, volume one of the Red River of the North family saga, which, due to reader demand, spun off Return to Red River, a trilogy following more of the Bjorklund family. Three more historical sets have followed, one set during the Civil War that traces the journey of a young woman leading thoroughbreds across the country to safety and a new series called Dakotah Treasures that follows the birth of the town of Medora, North Dakota.
Writing about real issues within a compelling story is a hallmark of Lauraine’s style, shown in her contemporary romances and women’s fiction, which have probed the issues of forgiveness, loss, domestic violence, and cancer. The Healing Quilt explores the relationship of four diverse women who come together to supply their community with a much needed mammogram machine. In The Way of Women, three families cope with the aftermath of a volcanic eruption.
All told, she has had over fifty books published—she thinks. She’s not sure. She’d rather write them than count them. Lauraine’s work has been translated into Norwegian, Danish, and German, as well as produced as books on tape.
Awards have followed Lauraine’s dedication to telling a good story: the Silver Angel Award for An Untamed Land and a Romance Writers of America Golden Heart for Song of Laughter.
Helping others reach their writing dream is the reason Lauraine teaches both at writer’s conferences across the country and at
her home in the California Tehachapi Mountains. She mentors others through book doctoring and with her humorous and playful Writing Great Fiction tape set. Lauraine also produces material on query letters and other aspects of the writing process.
Her readers clamor for more books more often, and Lauraine would like to comply, if only her ever-growing flower gardens didn’t call quite so loudly over the soothing rush of the water fountains in her backyard, or if the hummingbirds weren’t quite so entertaining. Lauraine and her husband, Wayne, have two grown sons, a cockatiel named Bidley, a basset hound named Chewie, and a possible Rummikub addiction.
a cognizant original v5 release october 16 2010
SATURDAY MORNING
PUBLISHED BY WATERBROOK PRESS
12265 Oracle Boulevard, Suite 200
Colorado Springs, Colorado 80921
A division of Random House Inc.
Scripture quotations are taken from the New King James Version. Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved. Scripture quotations marked (NIV) are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®. NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan Publishing House. All rights reserved.
The characters and events in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to actual persons or events is coincidental.
Copyright © 2005 by Lauraine Snelling
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
WATERBROOK and its deer design logo are registered trademarks of WaterBrook Press, a division of Random House Inc.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Snelling, Lauraine.
Saturday morning / Lauraine Snelling.—1st ed.
p. cm.
1. Women’s shelters—Fiction. 2. Female friendship—Fiction. 3. Abused women—
Fiction. I. Title.
PS3569.N39S28 2005
813’.54—dc22
2005012228
eISBN: 978-0-307-55110-8
v3.0
Saturday Morning Page 36