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this year it’s a coffee shop.”
    “Last year it was a child care business. The antique shop was the year before,” Natalie corrected her.
    “Regardless,” said Susanne, “she never follows through.”
    It was like being at a tennis match, going back and forth between mother and daughter while my grandmother silently drank her coffee.
    “She doesn’t go through with it,” Susanne continued, looking just at me, “because as your own grandmother can tell you, owning your own business is a twenty-four-seven job.”
    Then they switched topics, talking about a favorite quilt show they all watched. My food had arrived, so I kept busy wolfing down pancakes and bacon. Only baby Jeremy had less concern for etiquette.
    “How do you stay so thin?” marveled Natalie, watching me.
    “Depression eating.” I laughed, but I put down my fork.
    “You’re allowed,” Susanne reassured me.
    Both Susanne and Natalie gave me that “poor thing” look that I had seen last night at the shop.
    “Yes. This weekend.” My grandmother suddenly sounded stern. “After this weekend you have to get on with your life. He made a big mistake, and gaining twenty pounds won’t change that.”
    She was right, of course, but rather than admit it, I changed the subject. “What will happen to this place if Carrie doesn’t buy it?”
    “She won’t,” said Susanne, a little too sure. “Probably someone from New York will take it. Someone coming up in search of a nice quiet life.”
    “Turn it into a hip little restaurant like they must have in your neighborhood,” said a suddenly excited Natalie. “Put in WiFi and serve chai tea.”
    “Are you speaking English?” Susanne looked at her completely perplexed.
    Natalie just rolled her eyes. “They’ll make it like a city place, is what I’m saying.”
    I looked around. It wasn’t impressive. Even though it was a diner, it would still have to be stripped to the joists to turn it into the kind of trendy place the women thought it would become. I had a better idea.
    “Why don’t you take it?” I asked my grandmother.
    “Me? What do I need with a diner?”
    “Expand the shop.” I looked around again. Since it needed a major remodeling, it could be anything. “You could knock down the wall between your place and this and double your selling space.”
    “Someday is packed to the rafters, El,” agreed Susanne. “You could put in a classroom. You’ve always wanted a classroom.”
    Eleanor looked around the diner. “Needs work,” she said.
    We all nodded. It was impossible to ignore that it was a big job. “Well, maybe it is too much for you,” I started to agree.
    She looked at me. Even Natalie and Susanne recognized that I had challenged my grandmother, and she would find it irresistible.
    “Could be done,” Eleanor finally admitted. “Where’s the bill? I need to go to work.”
    Susanne, Natalie, and Jeremy had already said good-bye and left, and I walked to the door, but my grandmother hesitated. I could see that she was quietly examining the diner. I knew what I saw— torn leatherette booths and soda machines—but I could tell by the look in her eyes that in her mind the place was already filled floor to ceiling with fabric.

CHAPTER 8
    We walked next door to the shop my grandmother had owned for more than thirty years. And looking at it, it might seem as if she hadn’t gotten rid of anything the entire time.
    The quilt shop had a treasure hunt quality to it. While there were organized shelves with bolts of fabric lined up by color, there were just as many bolts leaning up against the wall. Fabrics of colorful flowers, cute baby animals, and Christmas prints were piled on top of one another near the cash register at the front.
    To get to the rest of the shop, you had to make a semicircle around a dangerously overloaded rack of books and down an aisle that was one person deep.
    If you did, you would be rewarded with a dazzling display of quilts. Eleanor had made the