I recounted my somewhat surreal experience with Dottie Shay until June called Addie and Henry to her and ushered them inside to clean up and get ready for nap time.
“He’s having such a good time playing with Addie,” I told Pearlie. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him with so much energy.” I didn’t add that high energy usually meant a hospital visit was coming.
“Well, I’m glad you all are settling in,” Pearlie said, topping off my lemonade. “If there’s anything you need, you just let your Aunt Pearlie know, all right?”
I blinked at her in surprise.Aunt Pearlie?I couldn’t help but smile. The thought warmed me in a way I wasn’t prepared for. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”
She leaned back in her chair and laced her fingers together, studying me. “You look like something’s eating at you, Zellie. What’s on your mind? Nervous about the new job? Ms. Dottie’s a bit eccentric, but I’m sure you’ll get along just fine.”
“Oh, no, ma’am,” I said quickly. “It’s nothing like that.” I wasn’t about to share what had happened in the cemetery, but I still wanted to find out what I could about the intruder I’d now seen twice. Trying to sound nonchalant, I replied, “Could you tell me more about the history of Dawes House? About the family?”
Pearlie gave a short laugh. “The Dawes family? That’s a better question for Ms. Netty. I’m old, honey, but that woman’sancient.”
“But you know some of the story, right?” I pressed carefully. “You must’ve heard things living here as long as you have.”
She didn’t immediately respond, regarding me through slightly narrowed eyes as if weighing whether to share what she knew. Then she said, “Fairland Dawes made his fortune in shipping. Piracy, some would call it. From what I’ve heard, he ran his home with a strong hand—much the same way he ordered his men around on his ship. His family obeyed him without question. Story goes he married off one of his daughters to a wealthy foreigner—that’d be Whit Proffitt’s ancestor—but the poor girl died in childbirth. So, he married off another daughter, Eliza, to the same man. The two families became the wealthiest in these parts.”
“What happened to the other daughter? Eliza?” I asked.
Pearlie sighed. “She drowned when she was pregnant with her second child. Her first child survived. And Josef went on to have other children, of course. The Proffitts were the first to renovate Dawes House after it was rebuilt. It’s been passed down through the family ever since.”
“Rebuilt?” I repeated. “What happened to the original house?”
“Burned down,” Pearlie said. She took a sip of her lemonade then added, “Fairland Dawes perished in the fire.”
“You said Whit’s ancestor did renovations on the new house,” I prompted. “What did he do?”
“Oh, he did quite a lot over the years,” Pearlie said. “Hard to know what he did and what those who came after him contributed. I do know he added the fourth floor. It had originally been an attic, I believe, but he turned it into living space.”
“An attic?” I repeated. “Well, that certainly would explain the lack of duct work. So…did Whit grow up here?”
Pearlie paused before nodding slowly. “Of a fashion. Lived here at various times over the years.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she added, “Always was a handsome young man, too.”
I flushed at her knowing grin. “I’m sure. Was Whit’s mother Mr. Monty’s first wife? Whit said he’d had a lot of stepmothers.”
Pearlie didn’t answer right away as if choosing her words carefully. At last, she said, “No, she was not one of his wives at all. She was one of Montgomery’sprojects.”
Ah. There it was. Whit apparently wasn’t the only one who’d wondered if I was Mr. Monty’s sidepiece.
“But I think that’s Whit’s story to tell, honey,” Pearlie added. “I imagine he’ll share more if he sees fit.”
Eager to steer the conversation away from whatever nerve I’d apparently touched, I circled back to the story of the Dawes women. “The first daughter you mentioned who married the foreign gentleman—was that Susanna?” Pearlie’s brows lifted in surprise, so I quickly added, “I saw her headstone in the cemetery. And there was an infant’s as well—Josiah.”
Pearlie nodded. “That’s my understanding.”
“Do you know anything about a boy named David who lived here?” I asked.
“Where did you hear about David?”
I hadn’t realized June had returned until she spoke behind me. “Henry found drawings in the closet of his room,” I told her. “They look like they were done by a child around Henry’s age. He keeps talking about a boy named David, and the initials DP are carved into a little desk. I assumed he was the one who drew them. But Ms. Dottie said the previous tenant’s son was named Jackson.”
June joined us, but her manner noticeably more aloof. “I’m sure I don’t know a David. Although, I suppose there could’ve been a David who lived here at some point over the years—common enough name. Or perhaps he’s just a figment of Henry’s imagination, Zellie.”
I had to concede her point. “I’m sure you’re right,” I admitted, smiling politely. “But I can’t shake the feeling that something happened to the woman and boy who lived in our apartment before us. The things she left behind…”
I left the thought unfinished, and neither June nor Pearlie prompted me to continue, so I let it go. Thankfully, Henry and Addie reappeared in the doorway, breaking the tense silence that enveloped our little party.
“We’re ready, Mamaw June,” Henry announced, trying to stifle a yawn.
