for now if you like. Just get rid of the black eyeliner.” I’d work on ditching the lipstick and multiple earrings later.
Her expression didn’t change as she spoke. “If you’re not trying to hook up with Jack, then why are you being so nice to me?”
Her question brought all kinds of thoughts to mind—like why she was referring to her father by his first name, and how somebody so young could know so much about circumspect adult behavior.
I took a deep breath and met her eyes. “Because you remind me a lot of somebody I used to know.” Before she could ask any more questions, I started walking. “Come on; the store’s not too far.”
She shrugged and fell into step beside me, and we walked in silence for several blocks before she spoke again. “Mellie?”
I didn’t register surprise that she was not only calling me by my first name, but that she was using my nickname, because it occurred to me that it was the first time she’d addressed me directly.
“Yes?” I replied, keeping my gaze focused straight ahead.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” I said, forcing my smile to remain small. And as I turned to look at her I caught our reflections in the front window of a store as we passed by, seeing the unmistakable image of a third woman following closely at our heels. I stopped, turning abruptly, and found myself staring at nothing at all.
CHAPTER 4
I had just finished discussing the menu for that night’s barbecue with Mrs. Houlihan—which included tofu burgers and baconless baked beans served on a separate table so unsuspecting guests wouldn’t accidentally eat any—when I heard a tapping on the back kitchen door.
I stood to let my mother in, along with a blast of hot air. Despite the heat, my mother barely glowed with perspiration and carried with her the scent of flowers. She closely resembled a more refined, albeit brunette, version of Dolly Parton, with the same enviable proportions. If not for the fact that I closely resembled her in almost every other way, including our ability to communicate with those no longer living, I would have demanded my DNA be checked.
She kissed me on both cheeks and that’s when I noticed the yellow rose in her hair.
“Nice flower,” I said as I closed the door, then led her out of the kitchen. Mrs. Houlihan was very protective of her domain, and when it was time to get to work you didn’t want to get in her way. General Lee remained on his bed in the corner, his eyes trained on the housekeeper, hoping to catch a stray scrap.
“Thank you. An early-morning gift from your father and his garden.”
I didn’t bother to ask her what my father was doing at her house in the early morning, because I really didn’t want to know. Although they’d been divorced and estranged for over thirty years, their budding romance might have actually been sweet if it weren’t for the fact that they were my parents.
As my mother followed me into the front parlor, she asked, “Are you expecting the ladies from the Historical Society for tea or something?”
I sat down on the sofa while my mother took the Queen Anne chair opposite. “No, why do you ask?” I began to pour coffee from the tray Mrs. Houlihan had brought in earlier while I’d been doing paperwork at my grandmother’s desk. Amelia had found the desk at an estate auction, and my mother had given it to me. It gave me no small comfort to sit at it to go through mail or pay bills and feel my beloved grandmother with me, despite the fact that with her phone calls I never felt that she was that far from me anyway.
My mother made a point of studying my heels, white linen dress, and Grandmother’s pearls before responding. “Are you wearing that for a barbecue?”
I handed my mother a cup of black coffee on a saucer while I filled my own cup with four sugar cubes before filling it, making sure to leave enough room for cream.
“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing? The hem’s not hanging out, is
Her expression didn’t change as she spoke. “If you’re not trying to hook up with Jack, then why are you being so nice to me?”
Her question brought all kinds of thoughts to mind—like why she was referring to her father by his first name, and how somebody so young could know so much about circumspect adult behavior.
I took a deep breath and met her eyes. “Because you remind me a lot of somebody I used to know.” Before she could ask any more questions, I started walking. “Come on; the store’s not too far.”
She shrugged and fell into step beside me, and we walked in silence for several blocks before she spoke again. “Mellie?”
I didn’t register surprise that she was not only calling me by my first name, but that she was using my nickname, because it occurred to me that it was the first time she’d addressed me directly.
“Yes?” I replied, keeping my gaze focused straight ahead.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” I said, forcing my smile to remain small. And as I turned to look at her I caught our reflections in the front window of a store as we passed by, seeing the unmistakable image of a third woman following closely at our heels. I stopped, turning abruptly, and found myself staring at nothing at all.
CHAPTER 4
I had just finished discussing the menu for that night’s barbecue with Mrs. Houlihan—which included tofu burgers and baconless baked beans served on a separate table so unsuspecting guests wouldn’t accidentally eat any—when I heard a tapping on the back kitchen door.
I stood to let my mother in, along with a blast of hot air. Despite the heat, my mother barely glowed with perspiration and carried with her the scent of flowers. She closely resembled a more refined, albeit brunette, version of Dolly Parton, with the same enviable proportions. If not for the fact that I closely resembled her in almost every other way, including our ability to communicate with those no longer living, I would have demanded my DNA be checked.
She kissed me on both cheeks and that’s when I noticed the yellow rose in her hair.
“Nice flower,” I said as I closed the door, then led her out of the kitchen. Mrs. Houlihan was very protective of her domain, and when it was time to get to work you didn’t want to get in her way. General Lee remained on his bed in the corner, his eyes trained on the housekeeper, hoping to catch a stray scrap.
“Thank you. An early-morning gift from your father and his garden.”
I didn’t bother to ask her what my father was doing at her house in the early morning, because I really didn’t want to know. Although they’d been divorced and estranged for over thirty years, their budding romance might have actually been sweet if it weren’t for the fact that they were my parents.
As my mother followed me into the front parlor, she asked, “Are you expecting the ladies from the Historical Society for tea or something?”
I sat down on the sofa while my mother took the Queen Anne chair opposite. “No, why do you ask?” I began to pour coffee from the tray Mrs. Houlihan had brought in earlier while I’d been doing paperwork at my grandmother’s desk. Amelia had found the desk at an estate auction, and my mother had given it to me. It gave me no small comfort to sit at it to go through mail or pay bills and feel my beloved grandmother with me, despite the fact that with her phone calls I never felt that she was that far from me anyway.
My mother made a point of studying my heels, white linen dress, and Grandmother’s pearls before responding. “Are you wearing that for a barbecue?”
I handed my mother a cup of black coffee on a saucer while I filled my own cup with four sugar cubes before filling it, making sure to leave enough room for cream.
“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing? The hem’s not hanging out, is
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