SUSAN MCMILLAN
"She doesn't live with me."
Though his eyes narrowed, he didn't press for more information. Grateful, Susan turned to study the paintings on the wall.
One in particular was her favorite. A small boy, dark eyes shining, played with a puppy in a strawberry field.
The artist was George's sister, Marie. Susan really wanted to meet the woman. It was a shame she wouldn't be able to attend the wedding.
"Shaker," said Ross as he joined her.
"As in salt?"
"As in my dog." He pointed to the puppy. "We called him Shaker because his tail thumped so fast his whole body shook. He had his own personal earthquake every time he got excited."
"That's your dog? Then the boy is—"
"Me." He sipped his wine. "Mom had a painting phase when I was about five or six years old. That was before her knitting phase and after her skydiving phase."
"Painting, knitting, and skydiving?"
