“Good. Because I have someone here I think she’ll want to meet.”
Matt looked me in the eye, and I knew this woman was somehow connected with Joe. My heart started pounding in my chest.
“Who is it, dear?” Gran called from the living room.
“Matt. And a... a visitor.”
“Well, invite them on in.”
I must have opened the door and stepped out of the way, although I don’t really remember doing it, then led them into the living room. “Miss Addie,” Matt said, “this is Viola Madison.”
The woman stepped forward. Gran rose from her chair and extended a hand, and the woman took it in both of hers. “Adelaide? It’s such a delight to finally meet you. I’ve heard so many wonderful things about you.”
“Who on earth from, dear?”
“Why... from Joe.”
“Joe?” Gran put her hand on her chest. “Joe Madison?”
“Yes, dear. I’m his widow.”
•••
“Oh. Oh my.”
I ran to Gran’s side, alarmed, and helped ease her into her chair. “Are you okay?”
She sat there, her hand still on her chest. “Yes. Yes, dear.” Her eyes were fixed on the woman’s face. “Joe’s gone?”
“Yes. He died six years ago. A heart attack.”
“But the flowers—” Gran suddenly broke off. She bit her lip, as if she realized she’d said something she maybe shouldn’t have said.
“What flowers?” I asked.
“Oh, nothing.” Gran’s hand flapped the question away.
“It’s okay. I know all about them,” Viola said gently. “Joe’s attorney sends them.”
“What flowers?” I repeated.
“Tulip bulbs.” Gran’s voice was thin and breathy. “Every spring they’d come. Charlie thought I ordered them, but...”
An image flashed in my mind—tulips flaming in the front yard every March, then disappearing, leaves and all, to await another spring.
As luck would have it, Hannah was the aide on duty. She looked at Gran and Viola, then back again. “I think you-alls need a drink.” She scurried into the kitchen.
“Joe arranged for you to receive the bulbs every spring for the rest of your life,” Viola said.
“Oh, my. And you—you knew?”
“Yes.” Viola’s eyes creased as she smiled. “You were the reason he married me.”
The conversation was interrupted by Hannah returning with a bottle of wine and a mismatched assortment of juice glasses. She poured all of us a glass, then took one for herself and sat down on a cane chair in the corner, actively listening. This time, no one bothered to shoo her away.
“I don’t understand,” Gran said. “How...? When...?”
“I was a stewardess. I was crazy about him—we all were. He was so dashing and handsome and charming. I was thoroughly in love with him, but he wouldn’t settle down. Claimed there was only one woman he would ever marry.” She took a sip from her juice glass. “I was with him right after you told him he should marry someone else and start a family of his own—and, well, I scooped him up on the rebound. We were married within two months.”
