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The inside of her house was an explosion of colors. Brody wasn’t sure he’d seen so many different hues in his life. One complete wall was painted in a variety of rectangles and squares, each a different color and separated by small white lines. The boxes were of various sizes.
All the other walls were a different solid color. It made for an unsettling experience.
He stared at the multi-colored wall for a moment, taking in the diversity of colored boxes.
“It’s a little overwhelming, isn’t it?” Daphne said.
“It’s different,” Brody admitted. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“I started putting little samples on the wall to decide what color I wanted to paint it. Then I thought, why not do this?”
“It reminds me of the bus on The Partridge Family,” Brody said.
“The Partridge Family? What’s that?”
As a child, Brody watched the sickly-sweet sitcom while visiting his grandmother. He liked the songs that the family sang and had a crush on Laurie Partridge. He had never met a nice girl like that until Daphne.
“It was a television show from the early seventies. I used to watch the reruns of it whenever I visited my grandmother.”
A white ceramic rhinoceros stood proudly on an end table. “What’s with the rhino?” Brody asked.
“I thought it would be sort of cool to collect a whole zoo of these ceramic animals.”
Brody lifted the heavy knickknack. It was larger than his hand, and the horn protruded several inches.
“But, I only bought the rhinoceros then stopped.”
“So you have a one-animal zoo,” he said.
“Not very interesting, huh?”
“Not true. I find it kind of cute.”
Did I really just say ‘cute’? Brody thought. What’s happening to me?
He carefully returned the rhino to the end table.
A beeping from the kitchen caused Daphne to hurry away. Brody followed her and watched as she turned off a timer then opened the stove. She slipped on a couple of oven mitts and removed a casserole dish. Carefully, Daphne placed it on top of the stove. She also removed a loaf of French bread.
On the nearby table, two place settings were arranged.
“This is a spinach casserole,” Daphne said as she scooped a portion of the casserole onto a plate.
“Spinach?” Brody asked.
“Trust me, it’s good. It’s my grandmother’s recipe. Her mother created it after a visit to San Francisco or thereabouts. Sometime in the thirties, I believe.”
Brody lifted his plate and sniffed the odd-looking concoction.
“She called it Joe’s Special. Some of the ladies in town have told me I make it wrong, that I should be using eggs, but I think it tastes fine as it is.”
He watched her scoop a dollop of the casserole onto her plate. Then she cut a couple of pieces of bread for them.
“I’m sure it’ll taste delicious.” He did his best to sound convincing. He’d eaten some horrible things in his life. He was sure he could gut this down without much problem. The important thing was to make sure he showed Daphne how much he liked the casserole.
“This will sound weird,” she said, opening the refrigerator, “but the secret to this is adding some ketchup. My grandfather used to slather it on. It gives it a nice kick.”
Brody liked ketchup. He had grown quite fond of it while in juvenile detention and prison. He put it on most foods now.
In only a few moments, they were eating. The casserole was surprisingly good, especially with the added ketchup. It had been some time since Brody had a home-cooked meal. He ate faster than he expected, and when Brody finished, he looked up from a clean plate to see Daphne was only half-done with her meal. She smiled at him, pleased that he had eaten so much, so fast.
“It was fantastic,” he said sheepishly. “What’s in it?”
She made a strange face. “You really want to know?”
“Ground beef, onions, and obviously spinach.” Over the next several minutes, Daphne explained how to make the dish. When she finished telling him the recipe, she asked, “Want some more?”
“Definitely.”
Daphne gave him another serving. This time Brody ate slower and enjoyed each bite.
With a fork, Daphne pushed her remaining casserole around her plate. “Where did she live?”
“Who?”
“Your grandmother. You said you watched that show with her. The one with the bus.”
“She lived in Sioux Falls.”
“That’s Iowa, right?”
“Yeah.”
“How often did you go there?”
“Whenever my mom had troubles.”
“How often was that?”
“Every summer. Mom didn’t want to spend three full months with me.”
“That’s terrible,” Daphne said. Her fork hovered over her plate.
“It’s okay. She wasn’t that good of a mom.”
“But your grandmother...?”
“She’s the best person in the world.”
“Your face brightens when you talk about her.”
“When I would visit her,” Brody said, “she made me feel special. Like I mattered. To my mom, I was a burden.”
“Did you have a special name for your grandmother? I called mine Nana.”
“Ma.”
“Ma?”
“That’s all anyone ever called her. Ma.”
“What did you call your mom?”
“Paula.”
“Oh.”
Brody shrugged.
“What about brothers or sisters?”
“None.”
“Your dad?”
“I never met him.”
“That’s sad.”
“It’s not so bad. From what my mom said, which wasn’t much, he was a swindler with a messiah complex. He didn’t stick around after she got knocked up. Ma refused to talk about him. Who knows how I would have turned out had he stayed?”
“You turned out fine without him,” Daphne said. “Maybe it was for the best.”
“Yeah,” Brody muttered. “For the best.”
“Do you still talk to Paula?”
“Haven’t heard from her in years.”
“That’s sad.”
“You already said that.”
“I don’t know what else to say.”
“It’s fine. Really. I stopped talking to her by the time I was in high school. We were essentially roommates then. We came to an uneasy agreement—I wouldn’t interfere in her life if she didn’t interfere with mine.”
“And Ma?”
“I spent my summers with her, but as I got older, it got harder on her. I was a bit of troublemaker.”
“You? You don’t seem the type.”
“You’d be surprised.”
“Would I?”
“I was difficult for her. I was selfish.”
“Isn’t that how kids are?”
“Maybe. I don’t know.”
“What did she think about you joining the Navy?”
Brody paused. He didn’t want to lie to Daphne any further. He wanted to tell her the truth, but he believed doing so would only lead to telling her everything. Then what would he do? And how would she react? Brody wasn’t willing to risk everything at this moment. Besides, the truth could put her in jeopardy if anyone ever found out.
“Enough about my past,” Brody said. “Let’s talk about Alice Walker.”
“Did you talk with the people who sold you the business?”
“I did.”
“And.”
“They’re going to get back to me.”
“That’s something, right?”
Brody nodded. “Have you ever met Carrie Fenton?” he asked.
“The author? Of course. Alice had her at the store for a signing.”
“What did you think of her?”
“She was nice. I think she and Alice hit it off pretty well. Why do you ask?”
“She stopped by looking for Alice.”
“And?”
“Carrie was... different. I got the feeling that she was only telling me part of the truth.”
“You think she was lying about something?”
“I’m not sure. It didn’t feel like she was lying to me exactly, but it didn’t feel like I was getting the whole truth either.”
“Are you worried that you might have purchased the business under pretenses?”
Brody paused, considering how to answer. “I bought it through an online attorney. Everything should be okay.”
“But no one knows where Alice is. It’s all so... hinky.”
“It has me concerned. I’ll admit that. I want to make sure she’s okay. Not only for you but so my being here is on the up and up.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Did Alice ever mention seeing anyone?”
“You mean dating?”
“Yes.”
“She didn’t date anyone. Well, that’s not true. When I was little, she was involved with a man named Gil. After he passed, she never was with anyone again.”
“One of the ladies in her knitting circle said she mentioned seeing a foreigner.”
“A foreigner?” Daphne asked. “I doubt it. She could barely stand the New England accent. How would she tolerate someone from another country?”
“People don’t just disappear,” Brody said. “And if they do, they’ve usually had help, whether they wanted it or not.”
Daphne pondered his statement. “Maybe she rode off into the sunset. Like a cowboy in an old Western movie, but in a car, not on a horse. Why couldn’t she have done something like that?”