“Oh, honey—whatever you think is best.” She placed her hand on her forehead. “I think I need to lie down until this medicine kicks in.”
I called for Nadine. She helped me get Gran settled in bed and brought an ice pack for her head.
I went back into the living room, opened the bed linens box and pulled out the contents. It was filled with yellowed sheets and tablecloths worn to near translucence and neatly patched. I ran my fingers over the hand-sewn stitches, probably the work of my great-grandmother. No wonder Gran had saved them; the care and frugality that had been lavished on these linens made my chest tighten. My job was to dispose of them, though; I was here to do what Gran hadn’t been able to bring herself to do.
I’d contacted a couple of vintage stores back in Chicago, and they’d agreed to look at photos of anything I thought might be valuable. I’d also set up accounts on Craigslist and eBay, and I knew the addresses of local charities that took donations.
I decided to take the linens to the local animal shelter. As I emptied the box, I wondered what had happened to Joe and how Gran had ended up marrying my grandfather. I wondered if she’d really been up in a bomber, or if her mind was playing tricks on her.
All I knew for sure was that I couldn’t wait for her to tell me more.
•••
After lunch, Gran took another short nap, then a physical therapist showed up to work with her. Gran needed another rest after that. I sorted through some of my mother’s old clothes in the guest room, then Nadine prepared a too-early-for-anyone-under-the-age-of-eighty dinner. The night-shift worker, a middle-aged woman named Hazel, arrived at six. I’d no sooner gone through Gran’s schedule and shown her around the house than three ladies from Gran’s Sunday school class dropped by for a visit. After greeting them, pouring iced tea, and chatting for a few moments, I excusedmyself and headed out for a run. Gran had been right; after a day being cooped up, I needed to get out of the house.
I saw Peggy heading out of Matt’s house as I trotted down the porch steps. We both waved, then met halfway across the lawn.
“How are things going?” she asked.
I smiled. “We’re off to a slow start sorting through Gran’s belongings, but I’m hearing all kinds of fascinating stories.”
“You ought to write them down.”
I’d been thinking the same thing. I nodded.
Peggy hooked her thumb toward Matt’s house. “I was just putting the girls’ laundry away. They’re at our house playing Wii with Griff. Matt was held up at work.”
“What does he do?” I asked.
“He heads up the Public Protection Division of the Louisiana Justice Department. He investigates and prosecutes charges of pollution, consumer fraud, equal opportunity violations, and other things that affect the public welfare.”
“Wow. Sounds like a big job.”
“It is. Which makes being a single parent especially tough. I’m so glad he moved to Wedding Tree so we can help out.”
“I’m sure the girls enjoy being near you.”
“Yes, but a move is still a big adjustment. That’s why I’m so excited about you doing a mural in their room. I’m afraid I sweetened the idea of moving here by promising that their room could look like a princesses’ chamber. Do you have time to take a look at it now?”
“Sure.” I was curious to see the inside of the house. It was a Georgian-style home, much larger than Gran’s, with big white columns. An elderly woman had lived there when I was a kid, and Gran and I used to take her cookies and flowers. I remembered an overgrown lawn, faded floral wallpaper, and drape-dimmed windows. The place had struck me as dark and spooky.
Now it was anything but. Peggy opened the new beveled-glass door and led me into a wide, hardwood foyer. A large chandelier hung over the entryway. Sunlight poured in through the transom windows aroundthe door and from the large windows in the dining room and living room. “Wow!” I looked around, taking in the fawn-colored walls. “This is gorgeous! I remember it as being kind of dark and run-down.”
She nodded. “After Katrina, it was bought by a furniture store owner from New Orleans. He completely renovated it, then kept it in spotless condition. It was move-in ready when Matt bought it.” She gestured toward the staircase. “The girls’ room is on the second floor.”
I moved toward the stairs, then Peggy’s phone beeped. “Excuse me,” she said, pulling it out of the pocket of her denim jacket. I admired the carving on the newel post while she had a brief conversation.
She clicked off and gave me a chagrined smile. “I’m sorry, but I have to go pick up Griff’s heart medicine before the pharmacy closes.”
“No problem. We can do this another time.”
“No, no, dear—you go right ahead. Take a right at the top of the stairs. It’s the first bedroom on the left—the one with the twin beds.” She dropped the phone back in her pocket. “Take your time. And thank you so much!” She hurried out and pulled the door closed behind her.
It was weird, being in someone’s home with no one there. This would never have happened in Chicago. But then, small-town life in southern Louisiana was completely different. With a shrug, I headed upstairs.
I found the girls’ room easily enough. It was painted pink, and there were two twin beds with Disney princess comforters, two gold-trimmed white dressers with mirrors, a child-sized bookcase, and a tall antique bureau. The room had a large window with built-in plantation shutters that looked out to the front yard.
The walls were bare of artwork, but I noticed several framed photos on the bureau. I stepped closer. Every picture featured a beautiful blond woman—holding an infant, reading to a baby, sitting in front of a Christmas tree with Matt and two towheaded toddlers. My heart swelled with the magnitude of their loss. They’d been a picture-perfect family—the kind you’d see in a packaged picture frame. The girls were adorable, their mother as gorgeous as any model, and Matt... My stomach gave a funny little dip. Well, he wasn’t hard on the eyes, either.
