Sincerely Yours

SEVENTEEN: CLARA

Clara's heart felt like it was in her throat when Oliver finally pulled up to a small little yellow house.

"You ok?" His smiled was bright and his excitement eased some of the tension she felt after the ride.

When she nodded instead of answering Oliver laughed loudly and unbuckled the helmet for her. "Thank you for coming with me. Just a warning this might be a little odd."

Clara seemed to find her voice as he grabbed her hand and started leading her up the front walkway. "What do you mean?"

He just smiled and said cryptically, "You'll see."

And then the front door opened and a short, slightly round little old lady stood there with her hands on her hips. "Oliver Joseph Langston, what did I tell you about that deathtrap you insist on riding?"

"It's not a deathtrap Marg, it's a motorcycle, and it's quite safe."

"At least tell me you wore your that helmet we got you this time you crazy boy." She demanded opening her arms to him and he hugged her tightly.

"Yes ma'am. I've worn it every time I've road since Christmas."

"Good boy," She patted his face with a smile and seemed to notice Clara for the first time and smiled brightly. "Who's this? I didn't know you were bringing anyone."

Oliver wrapped his arm around Clara's waist and pulled her farther into the porch light. "This is Clara."

Clara started to hold out her hand to shake Marg's hand but Marg had other ideas and pulled her into a hug almost as equally as warm as the one she gave Oliver. "Hello Clara, I'm Marg."

Clara was surprised at how comfortable she suddenly felt and she relaxed a little. "It's lovely to meet you." Marg gave her another squeeze before letting go.

"I made lots of food, all of Oliver's favorites." She linked her arm through Clara's and started leading her into the house. When Clara looked back to Oliver he shrugged and shut the door behind him.

"So did you make banana bread?"

"Of course."

"Marg, I could just kiss you right now!"

"I'd have to fight you then, young man, and I don't think you could take me." A voice came from the sitting room and Clara smiled brightly when she saw who the voice belonged to.

"Ms. Edison, what an unexpected pleasure." Max, the gentleman from the library grinned a twinkle in his eye as he looked at Oliver knowingly.

"It's good to see you again, sir." She reached out to shake his hand and he held hers warmly.

"It's Max to friends and any friend of Oliver is a friend of mine."

"Can I get you something to drink? A glass of tea? Water?" Marg asked as she started to busy herself in the kitchen.

"Do you still have that coffee I brought over last time?" Oliver asked as he started rummaging through their panty in search of the coffee.

Max led Clara to a barstool at the counter and moved to help Oliver search. "I think we put it in one of those canisters on top. Can you reach it?"

Clara watched as Oliver felt around the top until he finally came to a silver canister and grabbed it triumphantly. "Do you mind if I made a pot?"

Marg waved him off, "Only if you'll drink it all, you know I won't touch it."

Clara laughed as Oliver shrugged and started to fix the coffee pot, "I still can't believe you won't even taste it." he winked at Clara, "I've been trying to get her to at least take a sip of it every time I make a new batch and she refuses."

"You made it?" Clara asked surprised reaching for the canister of roasted coffee beans.

"Yep, I picked up the beans when I was at a market and roasted them myself."

Clara smelled the beans and hummed appreciatively. "They smell wonderful. How do they taste?"

Oliver grinned widely, "About as good as they smell. Which I keep trying to tell Marg but she won't listen."

"How do you know Oliver?" Clara turned to Marg who was stirring a pot of something that smelt wonderful as well.

Marg laughed as she smacked Oliver's hand when he tried to steal a slice of bread from a plate, "Max has a habit of bringing in strays, don't you honey?"

Max chuckled from the barstool next to Clara's and nodded, "Yes ma'am. And it's true when they say if you feed them they'll keep coming back."

"Hey!" Oliver said reaching for another slice when Marg turned back to the pot, "I was just a sad college student who you took pity on. You wanted to keep me, we all know it."

Clara laughed, "So you just found him and took him in?"

"Yep. He was practically living at the library for two months before I convinced him to come to dinner with Marg and me. Now I can't seem to shake him."

"Anything is better than reheated noodles for the eighth time in a week and Marg's cooking is the best."

Marg reached up and patted Oliver's cheek affectionately again and Clara smiled. "So how long have you all known each other?"

"Almost two years now I would say," Marg replied looking to one of the men for agreement.

"Yep, two years at the end of February." Oliver responded around a mouth full of bread and Marg pretended to glare at him.

"You finish getting that pot of dirty water made and both of you go wash up. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes."

"Yes ma'am." Oliver smiled kissing Marg on the cheek before pressing a button on the coffee pot and reaching for Clara's hand. "I'll show you where the washroom is."

Clara smiled and nodded surprised to find that she was really enjoying herself.