Chapter 9

Repercussion: In a fugue, the regular reentrance of a subject and answer after the episode immediately following the exposition (Eng.)

The Harmons were exactly the right people to have with me at the funeral home. They had attended the Alpha Lutheran Church with Gram and knew what hymns to pick for her service. They also suggested donations be made to a summer camp for underprivileged kids where Gram used to teach swimming. Grace and Al helped me write the obituary notice, and—the most painful for me—guided me toward a casket that looked decent, but didn’t cost half the town budget of Alpha.

The funeral director told us the coroner hadn’t looked at “the deceased” yet, so we set the funeral up for the next week, which would give him plenty of time to do whatever it was he needed to do. The director suggested having the service at Gram’s Lutheran church instead of the funeral home. I thought she would want that.

They also accompanied me to the lawyer’s office and waited outside while I conferred with him. He informed me Gram’s will left almost everything to me. “Everything” consisted of the cabin and cash in a bank account back in Moline.

“That’s all the money she has?” I was astounded at how little it was.

“Your grandmother was a generous woman. She had income from her late husband’s retirement, and from Social Security, but she kept only what she needed.”

“Where did the rest go?” It occurred to me I might sound greedy, but I was curious, more than anything else.

“She helped out whatever cause or person happened to come to her attention. Are you in a difficult financial situation?”

“Oh no, not at all.”

“Good.” He settled back in his leather chair. “I consider it a compliment to you that Ida didn’t think you would need her money.”

That gave me a warm feeling, too. It was a vote of confidence from beyond the grave. Not that Gram had a grave yet. It surprised me, given my initial reaction to Gram’s purchase, that I liked the thought of owning the cabin. The lawyer concluded by saying he was obligated to contact my cousins, as they had been bequeathed a small amount of money.

On top of everything the Harmons had done for me so far, Grace asked me over for dinner while we were driving back. It was hard to hold back my tears of gratitude. “I don’t want to impose any more.”

Al waved his long fingers. “Don’t be absurd. Our kids and grandkids left just before you came and it’s suddenly too quiet over there.”

“Besides,” Grace gave me a wink. “Al’s looking forward to telling his stories to someone who hasn’t heard them yet. Just come around to the back.”

I found myself looking forward to it, too. And I needed to ask someone what was going on with Rachel and Rebecca.

As soon as I was inside the cabin my cell phone rang.

“Well?” It was Neek. “What about the lunch?”

“I didn’t have to dial you, did I? At least not from the lunch. The lunch was weird, but that’s not all that happened.”

I told her about going to the bowling alley for hamburgers and about Mo’s rude ducking, trying to make light of my terror. My stupid problem of inhaling water was embarrassing and Neek hadn’t known anything about it. In retrospect, I had probably overreacted to being pulled underwater. It wasn’t like I hadn’t been dunked before. I didn’t mention Daryl being there for lunch. I don’t know why.

“Cressa, you’re going to have to start picking men some other way. Your track record isn’t good.”

“Well, it wasn’t a date or anything.” But I knew what she meant. My boyfriend history was bleak. After being on exactly three dates in high school, I guess I hadn’t known how to handle myself in college. My first serious guy there, a fellow music student, dropped me just as I was falling for him. I thought my heart would break like a shattered violin. He was my first love and I thought it would last forever. I lost all sense of direction. After that, I dated two druggies, one philanderer, and a couple of guys who wouldn’t let me go. Len, right after Gramps died, was the latest of those.

“So what are you doing tonight?” Neek asked.

“The neighbors invited me to dinner.” I just realized I was starving; I’d left most of my hamburger on the plate at lunch. “They drove me to the funeral home and the lawyer’s office. I’m so glad they’re here. They’re much better company than Mo’s family.”

“What’s wrong with them?”

“Mo’s father is an abuser if I ever saw one. I don’t know about actually beating on his wife, but she is scared to death of him.”

“Poor thing.”

I related the details of the will to her and we talked about the irony of my ending up owning the cabin.

“I’m still not sure Len isn’t around here somewhere.” I told her about finding evidence of a Peeping Tom.

“He’s not there now,” she said. “He might have been a couple days ago, but I caught him trying to sneak another note under your door this morning. He gave me a dirty look and left when he saw me. How long are you going to stay there?”

That was good news about Len. Maybe he hadn’t been here at all.

“At least until Gram’s funeral. We’ve set it up for next week, five days from now. I want to give my cousins a chance to get here. That’s as far ahead as I can think. Do you think you can come down?”

“I’ll be there for the funeral, you bet. Glad your lunch date was okay. No danger, right? I knew you’d be fine—remember that penny?”

I had to laugh. “Yes, I suppose your prediction was good today. For a change.”

“What do you mean, a change? Is that a pun?”

“No. Well, maybe.” I laughed again.

“You know I’m always right. It’s just that sometimes you have to reinterpret events a little.”

“Or a lot. Love you, Neek. Talk to you later.”

After my dud lunch with Mo, I was ready for dinner with the Harmons. I warmed toward them for offering me their easy friendship. As I walked around the corner of their cabin to the back, cheery light spilled into the night through the screen door. After knowing me only a few days, their embracing welcome was as warm as their small kitchen.

The meal was ready to dish up, so we started in as soon as I arrived. Grace served the catfish Al had caught that morning. Grace knew exactly how to bread and fry them: a little light cornmeal, a sprinkle of oregano and thyme from her herb garden, she told me, then quickly sear in the flavor. We also had delicious sunfish in an onion and garlic sauce, plus corn on the cob, dripping with butter.

“I’m grateful you were Gram’s friends,” I told them both as our flatware clanked merrily on pretty china plates.

“Well, gracious, she was our friend, too,” said Grace.

“She never really wrote about anyone except you two. Do you know who lives next door to me?” I recalled the two children, one with a bruised cheek, slipping through the door. “Do two little girls live there?”

Al gave me a blank look. “Little girls? No, they don’t live next door to you. They live in the next house.” That was the one with the blue shutters that Mr. Toombs had come out of.

“Eve lives next door to you,” said Grace. “She’s at least our age, no little girls.”

“And she’s not good with children,” Al broke in. His voice lowered and his face reddened. Grace turned to me and changed the subject.

“You’ll have to see my herb bed another day,” offered Grace. “I’d show it to you tonight, but it’s too dark. You’ll have to come back and see it in daylight.”

Al glowered and lowered his head.

“Maybe tomorrow.” The tension between them puzzled me. It was the mention of Eve that set him off. I wondered why.

Grace nodded, smiling. “I hope you’ll be able to enjoy at least some of your time here. We love it. And our grandkids do, too. We have twin boys, one in Wisconsin and one in Minnesota, but they always send our grandsons to visit in August.”

“I wonder,” said Al, “if any of them will ever want our cabin, since they didn’t grow up around here. If Grace and I should ever leave …”

“Leave? Are you moving?” He sounded sad. Was he going to get upset again?

“There’s a chance. If my condition—”

“Al,” interrupted Grace. “Remember?” She gave him a cautionary look over the top of her wire-rimmed glasses.

He nodded and returned to his meal. That condition was taking a beating. The storm had passed again, gone as quickly as it flared up. I didn’t dare mention the little girls again.