night.
And when her father had moved out of the lake house and into town a few years ago, Jenny had been surprised he hadn’t sold the old cottage—until now. Because only now, upon actually moving back in here, did she truly realize that everything in the house was exactly the same as when she’d grown up, right down to the dishes and the doilies. Right down to the shrine.
And as she rose to her feet now and backed away, she found herself wishing she could take down the huge photo in its gold gilt frame. Not that she didn’t love the picture —she herself had kept a five-by-seven version on her dresser in Columbus —but this one was just…too big. For the room. And for Jenny’s life now. Losing her mother at such a young age had been the tragedy of her existence, but she’d long since moved on, and something about the huge presence her mother still held in this room took her back there, to the loss, to the desperate disbelief and denial and sorrow, to the memories of her mother lying in a bed upstairs, withering away to a shell of her former self.
Whoa. You’re back to being “not you” again—being pretty darn morose , in fact. How had that happened?
“It’s this picture,” she muttered under her breath.
“ D’you say somethin ’, honey?” her dad called from the utility room just off the kitchen.
“No, Dad. But how’s it coming in there?”
“Think I pinpointed the problem. With any luck, we’ll have ’ er cooled down in no time.”
Jenny smiled. Her dad sounded more chipper now. And unless she was imagining it, the house might be cooling by a few degrees already. As for the picture of her mother in rose taffeta, she still found herself wanting to take it down and feeling guilty about it at the same moment. Wow , for a girl who’s spent her life doing nothing wrong , you sure keep finding a lot to feel guilty about.
But the picture would have to stay. The house belonged to her father—she was a temporary visitor here. She’d just have to get used to it again, and then she’d probably quit seeing it, just like most things you passed by every day.
Returning to the couch, she situated her favorite astronomy coffee table book right where it should go—in the center of the coffee table. In case this is the only way I get to see the stars this summer.
She looked up just as her dad walked in the room in his beige police uniform, wiping his hands on a rag. He’d come over as soon as his shift had ended, but he kept his police radio on his belt at all times, and it buzzed unsteadily even now. “ Feelin ’ cooler to ya yet?” he asked.
She nodded. “Much better. Thanks, Dad.”
“By the way, I saw Miss Ellie and Linda Sue in town at the drugstore this mornin ’. Miss Ellie’s havin ’ a garden party Sunday afternoon—it’s her eightieth birthday. She asked me to invite you.”
Jenny lifted splayed fingers to her chest. “Miss Ellie is eighty? Oh wow, I had no idea she was that old.” Miss Ellie had lived in the house to the right of the cottage for Jenny’s entire life, and she kept a lovely English garden in her big side yard, complete with a small gazebo.
“Of course, it’ll mostly be Linda Sue and Mary Katherine throwing the party, but Miss Ellie said she’d seen you were staying here at the house and she’d love for you to come.”
“Did she ask why I was here?”
He shook his head, fully aware that Jenny didn’t look forward to telling still more people she’d gotten divorced. “Nope.”
“Well, I’ll be there, of course.”
“Tell ya what—I’ll pick you up and you can be my date.” He winked.
And she said, “Dad, can I ask you something sort of personal?” They’d grown close after her mother’s death, but this was a topic they’d never covered.
He suddenly looked a bit uneasy, but said, “All right.”
“Have you ever dated anyone since Mom died?”
He looked like she’d suggested he take his squad car on a wild rampage through Miss
And when her father had moved out of the lake house and into town a few years ago, Jenny had been surprised he hadn’t sold the old cottage—until now. Because only now, upon actually moving back in here, did she truly realize that everything in the house was exactly the same as when she’d grown up, right down to the dishes and the doilies. Right down to the shrine.
And as she rose to her feet now and backed away, she found herself wishing she could take down the huge photo in its gold gilt frame. Not that she didn’t love the picture —she herself had kept a five-by-seven version on her dresser in Columbus —but this one was just…too big. For the room. And for Jenny’s life now. Losing her mother at such a young age had been the tragedy of her existence, but she’d long since moved on, and something about the huge presence her mother still held in this room took her back there, to the loss, to the desperate disbelief and denial and sorrow, to the memories of her mother lying in a bed upstairs, withering away to a shell of her former self.
Whoa. You’re back to being “not you” again—being pretty darn morose , in fact. How had that happened?
“It’s this picture,” she muttered under her breath.
“ D’you say somethin ’, honey?” her dad called from the utility room just off the kitchen.
“No, Dad. But how’s it coming in there?”
“Think I pinpointed the problem. With any luck, we’ll have ’ er cooled down in no time.”
Jenny smiled. Her dad sounded more chipper now. And unless she was imagining it, the house might be cooling by a few degrees already. As for the picture of her mother in rose taffeta, she still found herself wanting to take it down and feeling guilty about it at the same moment. Wow , for a girl who’s spent her life doing nothing wrong , you sure keep finding a lot to feel guilty about.
But the picture would have to stay. The house belonged to her father—she was a temporary visitor here. She’d just have to get used to it again, and then she’d probably quit seeing it, just like most things you passed by every day.
Returning to the couch, she situated her favorite astronomy coffee table book right where it should go—in the center of the coffee table. In case this is the only way I get to see the stars this summer.
She looked up just as her dad walked in the room in his beige police uniform, wiping his hands on a rag. He’d come over as soon as his shift had ended, but he kept his police radio on his belt at all times, and it buzzed unsteadily even now. “ Feelin ’ cooler to ya yet?” he asked.
She nodded. “Much better. Thanks, Dad.”
“By the way, I saw Miss Ellie and Linda Sue in town at the drugstore this mornin ’. Miss Ellie’s havin ’ a garden party Sunday afternoon—it’s her eightieth birthday. She asked me to invite you.”
Jenny lifted splayed fingers to her chest. “Miss Ellie is eighty? Oh wow, I had no idea she was that old.” Miss Ellie had lived in the house to the right of the cottage for Jenny’s entire life, and she kept a lovely English garden in her big side yard, complete with a small gazebo.
“Of course, it’ll mostly be Linda Sue and Mary Katherine throwing the party, but Miss Ellie said she’d seen you were staying here at the house and she’d love for you to come.”
“Did she ask why I was here?”
He shook his head, fully aware that Jenny didn’t look forward to telling still more people she’d gotten divorced. “Nope.”
“Well, I’ll be there, of course.”
“Tell ya what—I’ll pick you up and you can be my date.” He winked.
And she said, “Dad, can I ask you something sort of personal?” They’d grown close after her mother’s death, but this was a topic they’d never covered.
He suddenly looked a bit uneasy, but said, “All right.”
“Have you ever dated anyone since Mom died?”
He looked like she’d suggested he take his squad car on a wild rampage through Miss
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