Got it, but I deleted it.
Harry Hunter was unapologetic, saying lightly, "Don't worry about her. If you want friends, I'll take you out to meet some other people."
Isabella Weaver was actually quite inept at socializing and found it very hard to blend in with strangers, let alone make friends.
So, once she had friends, she cherished them dearly.
"No strangers. Let's take Grace Watt and the others out for a picnic. I can carry a little basket to gather wild vegetables, pick mushrooms, you can make a pot of mushroom soup, Grace can still make Beggar's chicken, can David and Jace cook?"
Jace doesn't know, and David certainly won't.
Harry Hunter frowned, Jace also wouldn't; where could he find a chef that Isabella was familiar with?
He was considering people when his phone rang, it was the old lady calling.
At the Hunter Family's ancestral home, the flowers that Isabella had pinched off were sprouting again.
