Chapter 41

Frances Noonan watched Jonathan Martin leave. Alma sat next to her on the couch, crying, her face hidden in her handkerchief. How could this be, that Alma would be denied the very thing she was so perfect for, just because she was old? How did they know she wouldn’t live until ninety? How did they know anything about the situation? Look at Alma, kind, loving, nurturing Alma. Look at how she transformed Baby Owen.

And look at how she transformed Mr. Glenn. The truth of the matter was, Mr. Glenn had been a sad, wallowing widower before Alma Gordon. Look at him now. Spritely and cheerful. Giving Alma pecks on the cheek. Humming all the time. This was Alma’s doing. Alma was good for him.

Alma was good for all of them. Frances herself had missed her sweet, gentle nature, her listening ear, her encouragement.

Mrs. Noonan tried to sit up taller on Mrs. Gordon’s squishy couch, but it provided no support. She had to content herself with awkwardly turning her body.

“Alma,” she started.

Alma was still crying. Mrs. Noonan reached for her hands, smelling the lilac bubble bath Mrs. Gordon loved so much. Mrs. Noonan inhaled deeply. What had she been thinking all these months?

She had allowed herself to be consumed by green-eyed jealousy, as green as one of Bill’s favorite wintergreen breath mints. What a fool. What a waste.

Missing Bill was not a reason to avoid Alma Gordon and Mr. Glenn. They were happy together. Mrs. Noonan inhaled the lilacs again. She was happy for them. There. She really meant it. She was happy they were happy.

She could be sad about Bill and happy about Alma and Mr. Glenn all at the same time. Her heart was big enough for that.

Alma Gordon had been her good friend for so many years. She was there when they were all young couples, living in the city and seeing their husbands off to work every day. She was there when those husbands retired and suddenly sat around the house all day with nothing to do. She was there when Frances needed her most, when Bill died. She was there to help when Frances broke her hip and wrist. She was a fellow Fog Lady, first to volunteer for anything Frances might propose.

They were old, old friends. Nothing could change that.

Frances missed Bill. But that was an entirely different issue, an issue that had zero to do with Alma Gordon. Alma was her friend and she needed to be there for her.