Meredith Rowan had expected Shirley Thorne to take the bait as soon as she brought up the familiar topic, cupping her cheeks and listening to her stories just like she had before the lunch break.
But in reality, the younger woman's expression was rigid. The corners of her mouth were frozen in a fixed smile, completely motionless. She looked like a statue that had just come to life, still unaccustomed to a flexible body and stuck in a stiff pose.
Meredith Rowan had the odd feeling that Shirley was about to topple over at any second, and in a completely undignified, splayed-out heap at that.
'What on earth happened to her?'
Meredith Rowan grew anxious, wondering what she could have said wrong.
"Shirley?"
she ventured.
"Ah? Oh!"
Shirley Thorne quickly snapped out of it. "Anyway, Aunt Rowan, let's not talk about that anymore. How about I teach you how to paint? I've already got all the supplies ready!"
