As we draw near, I see that the lawn of Brooke’s house is mowed and edged. It occurs to me that Quinn is probably responsible. “Are you handling the upkeep on the place?”
Quinn nods. “I kept the lawn service, and I had the cleaning lady come by yesterday to keep things dusted.”
On top of caring for Lily, seeing to Margaret, and running her own business while in the not-always-feeling-great throes of early pregnancy, she’s managing the details of her late friend’s estate. My admiration for Quinn just grows and grows.
She leads us to the back door. Lily grips my hand as Quinn unlocks it. The kitchen smells like furniture polish and Windex as we step inside. Lily releases my hand and wanders around the granite island.
“I don’t know what Miss Margaret wants to do with the place now,” Quinn tells me. “She said something about moving here if she recovers enough, but I don’t think it’s feasible. All of the bedrooms and full baths are on the second story.”
“Maybe I could buy it,” I find myself saying. “Or at least lease it. I’ll need a place to live now that I’m staying in New Orleans, because the condo’s sold and I have to be out in three weeks.”
“I bet Miss Margaret would be open to a short-term lease,” Quinn says.
“That would be awesome,” I say. “If Lily’s okay with me living here.”
But Lily isn’t listening. She’s staring at the stainless steel door of the refrigerator. “All of my art is gone!”
“Yes, honey,” Quinn says softly. “Your grams and I took down all the personal items to get the house ready to sell, remember?”
Lily’s shoulders slump.
I search my mind for a way to cheer her up. “You had some happy times here, huh?” I ask.
Lily nods.
“Maybe you can show me around and tell me about the things you used to do in the different rooms.”
The suggestion immediately brightens her. “Okay.” She holds out her arms and spins around. “This is the kitchen. It’s where we cooked and ate.”
“Did Quinn come over a lot?”
Lily nods. “She always came to the back door. Mos’ ever’one else came to the front. That’s over here.” She shows me the door where I first met Quinn. “An’ this is the livin’ room, where we would play games an’ watch movies an’ read.”
“It’s very nice. I like how you can see the kitchen from there.”
“Mommy said Quinn got the builders to tear down some walls.” She skips into the dining room. “This is where we ate when Mommy had parties.”
“It’s really pretty.”
Lily nods. “Mommy said Quinn found the furn’ture an’ did the core.”
“Decor,” Quinn says gently.
“I really like it,” I say.
“There’s a bathroom underneath the stairs, but it’s little. It’s where we used to have my potty chair, ’fore I was a big girl. An’ here’s the way upstairs.”
She starts up the staircase, then stops and cranes her head up at the wall. “Hey, all the pitchers are gone!”
“Yes,” Quinn says. “We took them down so people looking at the house could imagine themselves living here. They’re all packed up and stored for later.”
“What kinds of pictures were they?” I ask.
“People ones,” Lily says as she continues climbing the stairs. “Photos of me an’ Mommy, an’ Mommy an’ Quinn, an’ Mommy an’ me an’ Grams an’ Quinn, an’ gran’parents I never gots to meet, an’ things like that.”
“I’d like to see them someday.”
“I have a photo album I can show you,” Quinn says. “And Miss Margaret has lots of photos we’ll bring from Alexandria.”
