“I didn’t give Vesta her gift in hopes of reciprocity!” Scarlett felt she needed to explain.
Velma shrugged. Her gift from Vesta — a gorgeous creamy bag with delicate flowers — had been late, too. Vesta had driven her around, befriended her when she’d first come to the ladies’ rooming house. Christmas had been a good excuse for a gift. And Scarlett? She was just that way. Scarlett gave gifts for birthdays, anniversaries, holidays, arbor day, or no reason at all. For a while she’d even given gifts to strangers! But now that Sherman was gone, Velma had noticed some changes in Scarlett. Subdued? Not exactly; but nearly. They’d known each other a lifetime; had once been odd couple roommates.
Velma glanced at the amazing gift she’d gotten from Scarlett: a statement in gorgeous violet, lavender, pink, turquoise. Old friends knew when slightly timid Velma was wearing a gift from irrepressible Scarlett. They would know when she wore this. And though a decade or two ago Velma would have worried, she’d begun to embrace Scarlett’s gifts. Relished them. Scarlett would make a spirited addition to the group of spinsters, if Velma could just convince her to turn her extended visit into permanent residence.