“Well, that was weird,” he said in an undertone.
“No kidding,” she responded. She still couldn’t figure out what was going on. If her birth mother wanted nothing to do with her, why would she be offering refreshments instead of telling them to go away before she called the cops?
There wasn’t time for anything more than that brief exchange, however, because Nora returned with a silver tray carrying three glasses and a pitcher of iced tea. A matched set, too, of pink-hued pressed glass designed to mimic the styles of a hundred years earlier.
“Well, then,” she said as she set down the tray and poured tea for everyone. “How did you manage to find me?”
Her tone was just a little too bright and chirpy, as if she was doing her best to compensate for the worried, urgent way she’d greeted them
