“True.”
“Take your family for instance.”
“My family?”
“Your grandmother and grandfather – both sides of their families were part of this community early on.”
“Yes. My grandmother tells the story about how their mothers tried to matchmake them and how both weredetermined to fight it. You should ask her. She tells it better than I do.”
“I’ll do that.”
“What’s this for?
“My mural. I always do landscapes. I catch the color, the mood of the moment, but each painting doesn’t say much about what’s behind the landscape.”
Tom understood her direction. “Families.”
“Some with long histories here, and their presence shaped the landscapes. Take the Good Shepherd Church, for instance.”
“Been here a long time.”
“Yes, the front part of the building where the small chapel is formerly was the main church back in the 1880s. But the main church now is the addition constructed in 1969, yet the two blend to make a pretty unique place. But it’s the daycare children and the church members bringing life to its character. See where I’m going with this?”
“I think so. Some would say the same about my grandmother’s house.”
“For sure. It’s not about its background as a historic build from the 1900s, but the family who has been living there for decades since.”
“My grandparents bought it in 1948.”
“That coincides with Mrs. Heigl’s memory. She was raised in Conrad, went to teachers school at North Texas State Normal College, then came here. She and Olivia were fast friends.”
The phrasing tickled Tom’s humor. “I’ve always wondered about fast friends terminology. Did they rob banks and drink together?”
“No, they worked a community Christmas project together, and Olivia fixed Lucille’s car. It’s how they met.”
“Of course she did.”
Myrna approached the table and slid a hot roast beef sandwich and fries in front of him. “Anything else?”
“When you get a chance, coffee.”
“Sure.” She swept the dishes off the table and scurried off.
The shine on Summer’s face settled all his doubts. “You love this stuff, don’t you?”
“Yep. Didn’t realize it when I lived here, but all of the history weaves together to make the whole. You’re part of this town’s whole.”
“I’m a cop.”
“Plus, a member of one of the top families in town. I doubt there is one person in town who doesn’t recognize you. You’re a major thread.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
Summer snorted. “You wouldn’t. You’ll see.”
“I’ll see what?”
“Your contribution when I put the mural together with all the threads.”
