had thinned in fifteen years. Another five, and he’d likely be completely bald on top, as his father had been. As her father might have been if he’d lived long enough.
Forever couldn’t have been long enough to suit her.
“Did you know about this?” Mark asked suddenly. “Is that why you just showed up after fifteen years without so much as a call?”
There, faint in his voice, in his eyes, was the hostility she remembered. Along with the shadows, it lowered the temperature in the room a few degrees.
“No. Jones was here when I arrived. They had pretty much completed their discussion by then.”
“Sorry.” Actually sounding it, he ran his hand through his hair again. “I can’t believe… I thought I had talked her out of… We can’t let her do this. I’ll talk to Robbie Calloway—he’s her lawyer—and see what we can do to stop her. Do you have any idea how much this will cost?”
“It won’t be cheap.” Martine shared the tiny courtyard of her building with Reece and the dogs, barely big enough for a fountain, two chairs and all the plants they could cram in, with a few patches of grass for the four-legged residents. Lush and lovely as it was, she doubted it would cost more than $100 to replant the entire thing.
“Wow, you have a way with understatement.” Mark gave her a rueful smile. “We’re talking tens of thousands, hell, probably hundreds of thousands of dollars. For some stupid flowers and bushes. What in hell is she thinking?”
Reece made her voice mild. “I imagine she’s thinking that it’s her money and she should spend it on what makes her happy.”
The flash of friendliness disappeared under the weight of a scowl. “Maybe you’re happy living in an apartment in the French Quarter, but that’s a few hundred grand that I’d rather have in my kids’ college fund than in the dirt out here.”
Then his gaze turned distant. “Though she does comment on how beautiful the flowers are every time she comes to the house. Macy has a real green thumb. She planted the whole area around the guest house just for Grandmother.”
How many young men would include separate living quarters at their houses for the day an elderly relative could no longer live on her own? How many young wives would embrace the idea? If someone told her she had to take in Grandmother or even Valerie to live, she’d pack up the dogs and disappear lightning-quick.
“You think she should go ahead with this foolishness.”
Reece nodded. “I do.”
“But she might not even live to—to see it done.”
“She knows that.” Though Willadene Howard had never answered to anyone on earth besides her husband; she might not answer to death, either, when it came calling.
“So I can’t count on you to help change her mind.”
“It’s not my place. I haven’t been here in fifteen years. I can’t just show up and start telling her how to spend her money.”
“I guess not.” He stood, leaned across and tugged her hair. “I’ve got to get back to town. See you tomorrow.”
“I’ll be here.” Unless Grandmother or the ghosts or the fear she’d lived with so long ran her off.
Out in the hall, he paused long enough to shout, “I’m going, Grandmother. I’ll be back tomorrow.”
A moment later, Reece saw him through the window, striding to the car as if he’d had nothing but the most pleasant of visits. She was turning back when a flash of movement at the door caught her attention. “Grandmother?”
The only answer was the soft whisper of footsteps on the wood.
“Lois?”
A breeze stirred the curtains, blowing one strip of filmy lace hard enough that it caught on her shoulder before drifting down again and, almost lost on that unseen wind, came a long feline whisper of sound. Meow.
Shivers racing through her, Reece stood and hurried to the door. One, two, three, four, five…
On summer jobs, where the temperature could be unbearable by noon, Jones usually tried to get a really early
Forever couldn’t have been long enough to suit her.
“Did you know about this?” Mark asked suddenly. “Is that why you just showed up after fifteen years without so much as a call?”
There, faint in his voice, in his eyes, was the hostility she remembered. Along with the shadows, it lowered the temperature in the room a few degrees.
“No. Jones was here when I arrived. They had pretty much completed their discussion by then.”
“Sorry.” Actually sounding it, he ran his hand through his hair again. “I can’t believe… I thought I had talked her out of… We can’t let her do this. I’ll talk to Robbie Calloway—he’s her lawyer—and see what we can do to stop her. Do you have any idea how much this will cost?”
“It won’t be cheap.” Martine shared the tiny courtyard of her building with Reece and the dogs, barely big enough for a fountain, two chairs and all the plants they could cram in, with a few patches of grass for the four-legged residents. Lush and lovely as it was, she doubted it would cost more than $100 to replant the entire thing.
“Wow, you have a way with understatement.” Mark gave her a rueful smile. “We’re talking tens of thousands, hell, probably hundreds of thousands of dollars. For some stupid flowers and bushes. What in hell is she thinking?”
Reece made her voice mild. “I imagine she’s thinking that it’s her money and she should spend it on what makes her happy.”
The flash of friendliness disappeared under the weight of a scowl. “Maybe you’re happy living in an apartment in the French Quarter, but that’s a few hundred grand that I’d rather have in my kids’ college fund than in the dirt out here.”
Then his gaze turned distant. “Though she does comment on how beautiful the flowers are every time she comes to the house. Macy has a real green thumb. She planted the whole area around the guest house just for Grandmother.”
How many young men would include separate living quarters at their houses for the day an elderly relative could no longer live on her own? How many young wives would embrace the idea? If someone told her she had to take in Grandmother or even Valerie to live, she’d pack up the dogs and disappear lightning-quick.
“You think she should go ahead with this foolishness.”
Reece nodded. “I do.”
“But she might not even live to—to see it done.”
“She knows that.” Though Willadene Howard had never answered to anyone on earth besides her husband; she might not answer to death, either, when it came calling.
“So I can’t count on you to help change her mind.”
“It’s not my place. I haven’t been here in fifteen years. I can’t just show up and start telling her how to spend her money.”
“I guess not.” He stood, leaned across and tugged her hair. “I’ve got to get back to town. See you tomorrow.”
“I’ll be here.” Unless Grandmother or the ghosts or the fear she’d lived with so long ran her off.
Out in the hall, he paused long enough to shout, “I’m going, Grandmother. I’ll be back tomorrow.”
A moment later, Reece saw him through the window, striding to the car as if he’d had nothing but the most pleasant of visits. She was turning back when a flash of movement at the door caught her attention. “Grandmother?”
The only answer was the soft whisper of footsteps on the wood.
“Lois?”
A breeze stirred the curtains, blowing one strip of filmy lace hard enough that it caught on her shoulder before drifting down again and, almost lost on that unseen wind, came a long feline whisper of sound. Meow.
Shivers racing through her, Reece stood and hurried to the door. One, two, three, four, five…
On summer jobs, where the temperature could be unbearable by noon, Jones usually tried to get a really early
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