Meeting Mr. Right. Deb Kastner

matter how she was feeling when she walked in the door. Jo, with her wacky T-shirts, observant nature and ear for the latest gossip, was like a second mother to most of the town. Vee suspected the older woman knew more about her than most of her friends and neighbors did, but she was okay with that. There was no one better than Jo for doling out sound advice, solicited or not.

      “Vee, dear,” Jo exclaimed, waving the purple dishcloth she held in one hand. “Have you come to spend some time on the internet for your Spanish class, or shall I seat you at a table for a nice home-style dinner?”

      Vee felt her face warm and hoped Jo didn’t notice the flush of her cheeks. Not much chance of that, though. Jo was extremely perceptive. She was bound to see that something was off, but to Vee’s relief, Jo did nothing more than raise a curious brow.