Zoey’s finger pointed to a knight accompanying them over the bridge, sitting astride a tall steed, holding his helmet. The face bore an uncanny likeness to me.
“She put Mommy in, too!” Sophie said.
“Up in the clouds,” Zoey pointed again. “See?”
Sure enough, right where the sun was breaking through the clouds, hovered an angel with Christine’s face. My heart warmed. Without thinking, I reached up and ran my hand over it.
“An’ look here,” said Sophie, pointing to another part of the photo. “She put Gramma and Grandpop an’ Aunt Jillian in there, too!” I looked closer. Sure enough, the three of them were climbing out of a carriage in the courtyard out the second painted window. The likenesses were disconcertingly accurate.
“We need to move the furniture so she can start painting,” Zoey said.
“Yeah. An’ we’re gonna need to sleep in the other room.”
“I’ll move your furniture first thing in the morning,” I said.
Jillian clapped her hands together. “All right, girls, it’s past bedtime. I let you stay up to show your father the room, but now you need to go brush your teeth.”
They reluctantly trudged off. Jillian smiled at me. An awkward silence grew between us. I wished she would just go. “Thanks for staying with them.”
“My pleasure. Did you have a good trip?”
I nodded. “Always good to be home, though. And now that I am, I’m sure you’ve got things you need to do.”
“Not really. Do you want some dinner?”
“No. I grabbed something at the airport.”
Her face fell. “Well, I’ll go clean up the kitchen, then.”
“Leave it. I’ll get it after I tuck the girls in bed.”
“It’s no problem.” She left the room just as the girls came back in. The girls knelt and said their prayers, then climbed into their twin beds. I pulled up a chair and read two chapters ofPippi Longstocking. After kisses and tuck-ins, I went downstairs.
Jillian was in the kitchen, wiping an already immaculate countertop. She turned and smiled, her face expectant. “Would you like a glass of wine?”
“No, thanks.”
“I thought maybe you could use someone to talk to.”
Yeah, I could—but the person I wanted to talk to was Hope. I needed to tell her what a great job she’d done on the wall sketch. “What I could really use is about twenty minutes of fresh air. Would you mind staying with the girls while I run out for a bit?”
Her smile dimmed, but it didn’t vanish. “Not at all. Go right ahead.”
“Thanks.” I walked out, closed the door, and drew in a deep breath. Sometimes the air was so heavy with expectation around Jillian I found it hard to draw a lungful.
I walked across the lawn—deliberately breaking my own rules about sticking to the sidewalk—and knocked on Miss Addie’s door. A stocky, graying woman in scrubs opened it.
“I’m the next-door neighbor,” I explained. “I was wondering if I could see Hope for a moment.”
“She’s out walking the dog,” the woman said.
“Do you know which way she went?”
“She headed off that way.” She pointed to her left.
I took off at a jog. A block later, I spotted her on the side street, underneath a streetlamp. She turned at the sound of my footsteps.
“Hi!” I called, slowing as I approached.
