“Do you always come up with excuses for him?”
“Let’s not go on about him,” she snapped, and he pressed his lips together, maybe because he realized he would gain nothing by going on about her on her father’s failings.
After she unlocked the door, she turned to him. “Come inside, but wait in the front hall.”
“I should check out the house.”
“For what?”
“Intruders.”
“Unlikely.”
To her relief, he stayed in the hall while she darted into the living room, then circled through the rest of the downstairs before climbing quickly up the stairs.
Leaning over the balcony, she beckoned to him. “Come on.”
“What are we looking for?” he asked when he reached the top of the stairs.
“I’m not sure; it was almost thirty years ago, so it’s not going to be on the computer, but Mom kept some boxes with papers and pictures in the top of her closet.”
Craig followed her into a bedroom where the furnishings were antique and the once-expensive fabrics were dusty and faded.
“Your dad sleeps here?” he asked.
“This was Mom’s room.”
“They had separate rooms?”
“She told him about fifteen years ago that she needed her own space,” Stephanie answered, embarrassed to be revealing private family matters.
The room had two large closets, both full of women’s clothes.
When Stephanie saw them, she caught her breath.
“Everything’s still right where she left it,” she murmured.
“I guess he misses her. Or he didn’t feel like making the effort to get rid of her stuff. All he had to do was shut the door.”
She dragged in a breath and let it out. “I feel funny about poking around in their lives.”
“Yeah, but we need to do it,” Craig answered. “Are those what you’re looking for?” He pointed to the cardboard boxes neatly stacked on the top shelf. They were old department store boxes, the kind nobody made anymore.
“Yes.”
He lifted several down and set them on the bed.
Instead of reaching for them, Stephanie stood unmoving.
Craig turned his head toward her. “I know this is making you feel . . . unsettled.”
She nodded. “And Dad is going to be mad if he comes back and finds me snooping.”
“I guess that’s tough. But maybe we can get out of here before he gets back. Do you want me to help you look?”
“Yes. Thanks.”
They each opened a box and began looking through the contents. Inside were old photographs of Stephanie and her parents, plus other memorabilia.
