“All by yourself. That’s admirable.”
“I’m proud of what I built. I bought a nice house for my parents and supported them, but in the process, I lost track of what’s really important in life because I hardly ever saw them.”
“I’m sure they were very proud of you.” Audrey leaned over the table and squeezed her hand. “Do you miss your job?”
“I do, but I’m also finding there’s a lot more to life, and that’s been a revelation. Do you miss working?”
“Sometimes.” Audrey paused. “But hospitality is a tough business. It was time for retirement. Robert had no problem sliding into it. He’s embraced new hobbies and he cooks at home all the time. It’s been a little harder for me, but I’ve decided to look for a part-time job. I need to keep busy or I’ll go mad,” she said with a chuckle. “If you need help with the house, I’m pretty handy.”
“Thank you. I might take you up on that offer.” Riley liked Quinn’s mother very much. She was such a warm, open woman and so easy to talk to.
The gate buzzer went, and Riley got up to press the intercom in the hallway. “That will be the auditor,” she said. “Let’s see how much that amazing wine collection of yours is worth.”
50
QUINN
“Do you remember this, Mrs. Kendall?” Quinn helped her grandmother out of the car while Riley held the wheelchair so she could get in. The home had given Quinn permission to take her out for the day, and she’d been wanting to bring her to Aster House for a while. Perhaps it was a bad idea; her grandmother’s flashbacks were unpredictable, and she may not even recognize the house or it may bring back bad memories. Quinn’s other worry was that she might go straight back in time, settle into her past, and refuse to leave the house again. It was a risk worth taking, though, because she had a feeling it would make her grandmother happy to be back in her old home, even if it was only for a little while.
The old woman glanced around the yard, then stared up at the house. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she said, her thin lips pulling into a faint smile.
“It certainly is. Shall we go to the backyard for a cup of tea?” Riley suggested.
“Yes. Why not? Or perhaps something stronger? I wouldn’t mind a glass of port. It’s been a long day.”
Riley turned to Quinn, and she shrugged. It was only ten a.m., but if her grandmother wanted a glass of port, she couldn’t think of a reason not to indulge her. If Quinn were ninety-six and craved a drink, she hoped someone would do the same for her. “Just a small one,” she mouthed and gave Riley a sweet smile.
“One port coming up,” Riley said. “What about you, Quinn?”
“I think I’ll join Mrs. Kendall in a port.”
“Very well, then I’ll have one too.” Riley disappeared inside, and Quinn took her grandmother to the backyard.
“I don’t remember this thing,” the old woman said, pointing to the pergola. “How did that get there?”
Quinn realized she hadn’t thought this through. Everything looked different, especially inside, and that might be confusing. “It was installed this morning,” she said for the lack of a better explanation. “It was a surprise from your husband. He sends his love. He’ll be back tomorrow.”
“My Arthur. That’s so sweet of him.” Her grandmother clapped her hands together, and her smile widened as Quinn parked the wheelchair at the table. “Such great woodwork, and it looks so modern.” She narrowed her eyes as she studied the basic construction. “Goodness. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Only the best of the best for you,” Quinn said, relieved it was going well so far. “How was your day?”
Her grandmother cast her gaze over the river, and for a split second, she flinched, as if she wasn’t sure how to answer. “I went to the market,” she finally said. “Yes, that’s it!” Her face pulled into a triumphant grin as if the random memory came to her clearly. “I went to the market, and I bought fresh cherries. I’m making cherry pie after church tomorrow before my Arthur gets home. He’s in Nevada on a business trip.”
“He must be an important man,” Quinn said.
“Oh, yes. He’s friends with all the men of high standing. They meet up on Saturday nights in our home.”
“In the basement?” Quinn asked, her heart beating faster.
“Yes. How do you know about the basement? I thought it was the best kept secret of Mystic.”
“Your husband showed it to me,” Quinn said hesitantly. “He gave me a tour of the house, and he showed me the basement too.”
“Oh.” Her grandmother looked puzzled. “I don’t believe he’s ever taken a woman down there. It’s a private gentlemen’s club if you will. Then again, he might have mistaken you for a man with your short hair.”
Quinn chuckled. “I think he might have. Do you know what the basement is used for when your husband has his friends over?” She’d been wondering if her grandmother was aware of her husband’s gambling, and she wasn’t able to let it go. If there was ever a time to ask questions, it was now.
“Who knows?” her grandmother said with a shrug. “They might be drinking or they might be gambling. Probably both, but a good wife never questions her husband, and whatever it is, I’m sure it’s perfectly innocent. No women apart from me, and you too now,” she added with an amused smile, “has ever set foot in there. All that matters is that Arthur loves me and takes care of me.” She leaned in and lowered her voice to a whisper. “I’ll tell you a secret, but you have to promise me it stays between us.”
