Chapter 11

“Afternoon, children.” She smiled again, then directed her glare back at me. “And who are you?”

“Our uncle from California,” Alex told her before placing himself in a swing.

“California?” Mrs. Tate said it the same way someone might say outer space.

“Nice to meet you,” I said, politely.

“How long are you visiting for, uncle from California?”

I smiled. “A few weeks.”

She sniffed. “Nice to have such a generous vacation plan from your employer.”

Lord, so the woman was fishing. Fine.

“I don’t work, Mrs. Tate.”

“Oh?”

I merely smiled again and walked to where Annie sat on her swing as she had just asked me to push her.

“Laid off?” she prodded.

“Nope.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Your wife working?”

Apparently Mrs. Tate was quite the busybody.

“I haven’t got a wife either. I have had a few books published.”

“Oh. I see. You’re in the arts.” Also said like outer space. “There’s a lot of that there in California, I imagine.”