She had a graceful way of moving, and even from this distance, he could see that her hands and fingers were long and slender. Perfect piano-playing hands. Definitely musician's fingers.
He tried to think about who the woman could be. Maybe Vivian had hired a house cleaner, but he thought he'd heard something through the town grapevine about her niece coming.
Grace. He was pretty sure her name was Grace. He vaguely remembered his parents giving her music lessons several summers in a row back when they were small. She was a little younger than he was, but Vivian would walk her to the store, and his mom would takeher to the back, where the piano was, and simple music would flow out for the next half an hour or forty-five minutes.
He'd not seen her often over the years, but... On a whim, he set his rag down and pulled out his phone.
He typed "Grace Dempsey" into the search bar, although he wasn't quite sure that was her last name. That was Vivian's last name, but maybe they didn't have the same one.
He waited for the page to populate, and then his stomach dropped as he read some of the headlines.
Musician Cancels December Concerts.
What Happened to Grace Dempsey?
Mysterious Illness Sidelines World's Greatest Classical Pianist.
He stared at them for a while, and then looked back at the woman who had turned around and walked into the house, carrying her window cleaning supplies.
That long dark hair was pretty distinctive, and it matched the pictures that had come up for Grace Dempsey.
What was she doing in Mistletoe Meadows?
He shrugged it off, picked up his own window cleaning supplies, and walked out the door.
Chapter 5
"Would you mind picking up my prescription while you're out?" Aunt Vivian shouldered her purse and looked at Grace.
Grace suspected that Aunt Vivian was trying to get her to get out and meet some of the townspeople, but that was just pure speculation, since Aunt Vivian hadn't said anything of the kind.
"Sure," Grace said, not mentioning that she had had no intention of going out although it was a beautiful day and a walk would do her good. She knew it; she just didn't feel like doing it.
"Thank you. Dr. Hannah said that the sample for the new medication that I was thinking about starting was there, and I could pick it up anytime. I'll give her a ring and let her know that you'll be doing it for me." Aunt Vivian moved closer and gave Grace a hug, which Grace returned. "I'll be back by suppertime. Don't worry about doing anything. I'll stop at that really delicious sandwich shop on the outside of town and bring some subs back with me."
"Are you sure?" Grace said. "I can cook something."
"You're still settling in. You just take it easy and enjoy the beautiful weather. Pretty soon we won't have any nice days like thisfor a long time." Aunt Vivian waved her fingers and then disappeared out the front door.
Grace watched her leave and then glanced out the window. Aunt Vivian was correct, it was gorgeous out, and warm too. Unseasonably so for December. But that didn't make Grace have any more desire to take a walk. Although, if she took a walk, she could get herself further away from the piano in the parlor. She had shut the door to the parlor no less than four times this morning already, and somehow, Aunt Vivian always found an excuse to open it back up.
For some reason, just looking at the piano made her feel like she was going to have a panic attack.
Which, of course, brought back all of the feelings from the night that she actually had had a panic attack, thought she was dying, and... She didn't want to think about it. But there was no way she could even go in and sit down at the instrument, let alone think that she was going to play in front of any kind of crowd. The idea made her feel like she was going to throw up. It also made her heart feel like it was going to beat out of her chest, and her throat close and tighten.
She deliberately took a deep breath, closing her eyes and thinking about the beautiful, sunny December day.
Yes, a walk would be a great idea.
Grabbing her purse and a light jacket, she slipped out the front door and stepped off the beautiful Victorian front porch. She loved Aunt Vivian's house, and other than the piano in the parlor, it was relaxing and brought back happy memories of her childhood. Coming to Mistletoe Meadows was a great idea.
As she walked down Main Street, she was a little overwhelmed by the friendly greetings. She had forgotten just how friendly and happy the small town was.
After she had told at least ten strangers good morning and had a short conversation with three of them, she made it to the medical clinic.
It smelled like a typical doctor's office—antiseptic mixed with the smell of bandages and cleaner. The waiting room had a nicely decorated tree in the corner, and garland hung in loops the entire way around the room. The windows also had cute little Christmas decorations in each one of them. They looked homemade. Possibly made by patients, although Grace could not be entirely sure.
She walked up to the window and inquired about her aunt's medication. She fully suspected that she would not be able to pick it up herself, or would have to jump through a hundred hoops, but the receptionist smiled and said, "Dr. Hannah told me that you would be coming in. Apparently Vivian called. Such a sweet lady. She's your aunt?"
