Tracie Peterson (5 page)

“We had it pretty good here,” Deirdre said.

“We didn’t think so at the time,” Erica replied, laughing. “I remember how we could all hardly wait to get out of this little no-nothing town, as we used to call it.”

“I kind of miss the serenity.”

“You’d die of boredom within a week,” Erica teased.

Deirdre laughed. “Maybe, maybe not. Sometimes I think I would much rather raise Morgan in this kind of an environment. Five years old can be a magical time on the farm. Don’t you remember how wonderful it was having your own horse and dozens of cats and dogs to play with? Morgan keeps pestering me for a puppy, but with Dave planning our anniversary trip to Hawaii, I just don’t think it would be a smart way to start the summer.”

“But that’s a couple of months away. You could get the puppy now and then let Morgan bring it with her when she stays here with Grammy. That way she’d have something to keep her company. She is still staying with Grammy, isn’t she?”

Deirdre shrugged. “I haven’t had a chance to talk to Grammy about it since this whole mess happened with Rachelle. I don’t imagine she’ll want us to change our plans, but I am going to look for a quiet opportunity to talk to her.”

“Are we still going to stay the rest of the week?” Erica questioned. “I mean, I have the time off from work, so it’s not a problem for me.”

“Dave’s mom and dad said they’d come and stay with Morgan, so I don’t see it as a problem. I figure Grammy will need the company.”

Erica nodded. “I just hope nothing goes wrong. We haven’t been together like this in years.”

Deirdre turned onto the long lane that led across Mitchell land to the house where they’d all grown up. A feeling of nostalgia washed over her. She was coming home—they were all coming home—and strange though it might seem, Rachelle had brought them all here.

Pulling her car up alongside Harry’s old beat-up pickup, Deirdre turned off the engine. Harry was already helping Mattie and Connie from the truck. Connie laughed about something and Mattie waved to a woman on the front porch.

“Help me convince Harry to stay for the dinner,” Mattie told Deirdre as she joined the group. “There will be more than enough food. You know how these things go, Harry.”

“Besides,” Deirdre teased, “six females and no man to pick on, what fun would that be?”

Harry grinned. “It’s that last part that has me worried.”

“Nonsense,” Mattie declared. “Come on, Erica, Connie—let’s go inside and recollect our thoughts. This day has done its best to completely scramble my brain, but I’m bound and determined to enjoy my time with you girls.”

Deirdre stared at Harry. “You should stay,” she reiterated, watching Brook and Ashley head up the front porch steps behind her grandmother. “I know we’d all like to have you here.”

“I guess I might as well. The press will probably have the end of the driveway blocked by the time I can get the truck turned around.”

“Let them sit and wait,” Deirdre replied. “Just spend the day with us.”

Inside the house, the aromas of meatloaf and fried chicken wafted through the air like invisible advertisements for the meal to come. Harry took off his tweed suit coat and loosened his tie.

“Why don’t you just lose that altogether?” Connie suggested. Then before Harry could protest, she reached up and finished pulling the tie apart. “You look so uncomfortable.”

Harry grinned. “That’s because I am uncomfortable.”

Connie nodded and tossed the tie over her arm, then reached out to take Harry’s coat. “I’ll put these things in the hall closet.”

She turned to walk away, but Harry wanted to say something about their conversation in the church. He hadn’t meant to upset her, but it was obvious that he had.

“Connie, I’m sorry if I intruded earlier.”

“I know you didn’t mean to be anything but helpful. I was just having a particularly bad moment.”

“I kind of figured that. You looked like you might pass out any minute. That’s the only reason I came to check up on you.”

“The only reason?” Connie questioned, seeming to regain her composure.

“You seemed so alone,” Harry admitted. “I didn’t want you to feel like that—especially at something like a funeral.”

“I am alone, Harry. But you don’t need to let that bother you. It’s just the way my life has always been.”

“Oh, Connie, get over it,” Deirdre commented as she came into the hall. “You aren’t alone. We’re all in this together.”

Connie looked as though she might say something, then changed her mind. Looking down at the floor, she murmured, “I didn’t expect you to understand. I think I’ll go see if Grammy needs help.”

“She’s still the insecure one, eh?” Harry watched Connie disappear down the hall.

Deirdre shrugged. “She’s been giving us that same song and dance since she was little and found out she had a different father than the rest of us. Who cares, is what I say. So she had a different father. It’s not like any of us knew our father or had him in our lives. She acts as though she was the only one to endure such a tragedy.”

Harry leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms. “Sounds like you’re all still trying to shake the past.”

“It’s a tough past to shake,” Deirdre said, frowning. “You knew your mom and dad, Harry. You had a lifetime of memories with them and an honest-to-goodness relationship. We can’t say that of
our folks. Our mother had us, got rid of us, and moved on to something else. And in the meantime, she buried our father and never told us much about him.”

Harry shifted uncomfortably and tried to think of something to say, but Deirdre quickly changed the subject. “The food smells great, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” Harry admitted. “It does.”

“I think these funeral rituals are kind of silly. The dead folks don’t know you’ve done anything nice for them anyway. Funerals are rather a waste of time—and money.”

“Funerals are for the living,” Harry quickly threw in. “The dead don’t care. They’re dead.”

“Exactly my point. They’ve gone, and whether to heaven or hell or wherever else you think they might be, they aren’t here eating Mrs. Wallace’s famous pineapple upside-down cake.”

“But those folks are here for Mattie—and you and your sisters,” Harry said softly. “Mattie probably feels a great deal of comfort in their being here. I know she feels comforted because you’re here.”

Deirdre softened at this, her expression thoughtful. “I hope she’ll be all right when we leave. You do think she’ll get through this okay, don’t you?”

It was Harry’s turn to shrug. “Mattie’s a strong woman, but losing Rachelle this way is going to be hard on her.”

“Why any harder this time than the other times Rachelle walked out of her life?”

“Because with the other times, there was always the chance that she would walk back in. That can’t happen this time,” Harry replied.

“I hadn’t really thought of it that way,” Deirdre replied. “I suppose you have a point.”

“I know I do,” Harry said. “Mattie’s closing an era of her life. Her children are gone, as well as her husband. You girls are all she has left.”

“I’m sorry, Harry,” Deirdre said softly. “I know I’ve been rather selfish. The others would probably say the same thing.”

“It’s easy for us to get wrapped up in our own lives,” Harry said with a smile.

Deirdre nodded. “Grammy means the world to me, and I know she’s important to you as well. I’ve always appreciated that you bought up her extra land when she felt the need to sell. She’s a very special lady—I think we can all agree on that.”

“She’s been a strong foundation for this family. But even foundations can only bear so much weight.”

Deirdre watched Harry walk away. She felt a burning in her heart at the words he’d just spoken. She knew Mattie needed them, and the guilt she felt only made matters worse.

“Are you okay?” Erica questioned, coming up from behind her.

Deirdre turned to face her younger sister, realizing what an intricate role Erica played in her life. “Harry was just reminding me how hard all of this will be on Grammy.”

Erica looked at the floor. “She really loved Rachelle.”

“Yes, and maybe that’s why I’m feeling so bad. I’ve made it very clear to Gram that Rachelle meant nothing to me. I’m sure that hurt her feelings.”

“We’ve all said things like that. She knows we have a difficult time in understanding the past. She’s been a wonderful mother to us, but she can’t expect us to love Rachelle vicariously through her.”

“Still, we should probably spend extra time down here now that Rachelle has died. I mean, at least for a while. I know it’s harder for Brook and Ashley, but even Connie wouldn’t have to go too far out of her way to spend a weekend here every so often.”

“None of us are really that far away,” Erica admitted.

“Harry reminded me that even though Grammy is strong, we shouldn’t take that for granted. Yet I know I have,” Deirdre said, shaking her head. “I’ve just always needed Grammy so much, it’s hard for me to remember that she needs me—us. I don’t like to think of her being lonely.”

“I guess I’ve been far too wrapped up in my own worries.”

Deirdre hugged her sister close and sighed. “We’ve both been rather shortsighted. We thought this day was for Rachelle . . . but in truth, it’s for Grammy.”

Chapter 5

At age thirty, Ashley figured she was as grown-up as she was going to get. But somehow coming back to Grammy’s made her feel like a little girl again. She forgot about her ten-year marriage to Jack, a general practitioner, and she even set aside thoughts of her two boys—John, age nine, and Zachary, seven.

Standing in the center of the bedroom she’d known as her own for a lifetime, Ashley let out an audible sigh. The marbled blue wallpaper, the white ceiling and molding trim, and the wispy white sheers at the windows instantly took her back to her teens. Again she sighed.

“I had the same reaction when I saw my room,” Brook said from the door.

Turning to find a mirrored image of her own face, Ashley smiled. “It’s both creepy and comforting at the same time.”

“Kind of like time stood still, eh?”

“Something like that. I mean, I know I was here just three years ago, but Jack was with me and the boys were so young I was constantly running after them. I guess I just didn’t pay that much attention.”

Brook nodded. “It’s been only two years for me, but it feels the same each time I come home. I walk through the front door, smell the baking bread and the apple wood fires, and I can’t help but be transported back to childhood. It makes me feel young again. Almost carefree.”

“We aren’t that old,” Ashley protested and began unpacking her suitcase.

“You aren’t, but I am,” Brook countered.

Ashley laughed at this. “We’re the same age—or have you forgotten?”

Brook came around the end of the solid cherry sleigh bed and sat down to lovingly touch the double-wedding-ring quilt top. “In my line of work, I’m old.”

“You’re in your prime,” Ashley said jokingly.

“Right,” Brook replied, “if I want to model for nursing home commercials.”

Ashley smiled, but she knew her sister’s age was a critical factor in her line of work. She also knew Brook’s paranoia over her rapidly ticking biological clock. Many women feared that clock’s increasing pace because they longed for children. Brook feared it because she had no idea what to do with her life after modeling.

Picking up a stack of clothes, Ashley moved to the armoire and opened the drawers. The rich scent of lavender assaulted her nose. Grammy was ever faithful in keeping the rooms aired out and the drawers smelling fresh.

“I wish the world didn’t fix such attention on looks and age,” Ashley said, placing her things in the drawer. “It seems like nothing else matters anymore. Appearance is everything.”

“Why would
you
say that?” Brook questioned. “You have your family and a husband who loves you. You live in a gorgeous house in a fashionable neighborhood—”

“My point exactly,” Ashley cut in, slipping out of her black dress. She looked at the long-sleeved creation for a moment and shook her head. “I didn’t know if people wore black to funerals anymore, but since they do in the movies, I figured it was only fitting.” She set the dress aside and pulled on a cotton sweater and jeans. “I’m just so glad to have that funeral behind me. I didn’t want to come in the first place, but I knew Grammy would expect it.”

“You would have wanted to be here for Grammy whether she expected it or not,” Brook said quite seriously. “Face it, whether we like it or not, we are who we are.”

Ashley couldn’t deny her sister’s statement. “It’s just so hard to give Rachelle any presence in my life. She doesn’t deserve to be a part of us, and yet here she is, right in the middle of everything. And for the sake of appearances—we’re here in the middle as well.”

“You keep mentioning appearance. What was it you were saying about the world only valuing looks and age? How does that figure in your world?”

“It’s simple enough,” Ashley said, hanging her dress in the armoire. “Success in my world depends on having the right sized family, participating in the most politically correct charities, wearing the current fashions, and living in the best neighborhoods. It means little things like agreeing to a certain order of exterior Christmas decorations for your house. Or that you won’t wear fur or drive certain cars. It means that your children will play soccer but not Little League Baseball, and that you’ll never buy anything but real leather when purchasing shoes.”