Buddy stared around the room that was packed almost solid with boxes and junk.
“The time,” said the tinny mechanical voice, “is 10:25 p.m.”
Grandpa was moving toward the doorway, having lost interest in whatever they were saying. Or perhaps he simply couldn’t hear them because they were speaking quietly.
Max moved out of the old man’s way, his gaze fixed on Buddy while he absently scratched behind the kitten’s ears. “It sounds like you were right. Your mom didn’t steal anything. She just took the bag and left the money behind, only Grandpa forgot about it when Cassie and Addie asked him. He probably doesn’t have a clue where it is. But we could look for it.”
He followed Buddy’s gaze over paper bags filled, with clothes and books and heaven knew what else, and all the cartons they’d been looking through for Montana history books. “It might take weeks to go through all this stuff.”
“Do you think we should tell Aunt Cassie and Aunt Addie? That it’s probably here somewhere, not permanently lost after all?”
Max considered for only a moment. “Maybe not. I’m not sure they’d believe us, anyway. Let’s look for it ourselves. That way we won’t get them all excited for nothing if we can’t find it.”
“How are we going to do that without everyone knowing what we’re doing?” Buddy asked.
“We could offer to clean up this room, sort things out. Cassie’s always saying what a mess it is, fussing because Grandpa won’t let her touch anything.” Max’s mouth twisted wryly. “You’d have to be the one to suggest it. She’d never believe I would tackle that much work on my own. She might believe I’d help you.”
Scanning the room, Buddy sighed. “It’s a big job. But if the money’s still here, we have to find it.” Excitement began building in her. Maybe she could prove that Mama was innocent of stealing Grandpa’s money! “Let’s try, okay?”
Not mentioning it turned out to be almost more than Buddy could manage. Max was right, though: Why get everybody’s hopes up before they knew the money was still on the premises? Who knew what might have happened to it in more than two years? Grandpa might have thrown it away with the trash without realizing what he was doing.
But Buddy couldn’t allow herself to think that way. She had to clear her mother’s memory. And she would find the money. She hated the fact that she had to concentrate the rest of the week on writing the essay about Montana history, and on other homework, but she didn’t dare not do it, and Max was busy with his, too.
On Friday evening, over an excellent supper of broiled salmon and herbed scalloped potatoes, Buddy took a deep breath as soon as Gus had left the table—he usually left, without excusing himself, before the others were finished—and spoke the words she’d been rehearsing since Tuesday night.
“Aunt Cassie, is it all right with you if I help Grandpa straighten up his room? He stumbled over a box this afternoon, and I thought maybe if nothing was sticking out to trip him, it might be safer.”
Cassie and Addie both stopped eating to stare at her, then at the old man. “That all right with you, Grandpa?” Cassie asked.
“I guess it’s time I got rid of some of that stuff,” Grandpa said, as if Cassie had never pestered him to do it before. “No sense waiting for it all to be pitched out after the funeral.”
“What funeral?” Max blurted, then flushed as Grandpa responded offhandedly.
“Mine, of course. Going to happen one of these days, though old George Hubbard is going on a hundred and one, he told me. ’Course, he’s not blind, so he can still read and go for walks by himself without getting lost. I got my hymns picked out, Sister. ‘Rock of Ages’ and ‘Fly Away.’” He sang a bar of the latter. “‘When I die, Glory Alleluia, by and by, I’ll fly away!’ Only need two, don’t I?”
For a moment there was a disconcerted silence at the idea of Grandpa planning his own funeral service. Then Addie cleared her throat and agreed. “Sounds about right,” she said. “I’ll remember to tell Pastor.”
Buddy was disconcerted along with everyone else, but she didn’t want to get off the subject that was important to her. “It’s all right, then? If I reorganize everything? I figured maybe Max would help me lift and move the heavy stuff.”
“Uh, yeah, I guess so,” Max said, trying to sound reluctant. After all, he didn’t want to seem too much out of character.
Right then the phone rang. Buddy didn’t care about the interruption, since she apparently had permission to start poking around in Grandpa’s room. She held her breath, though, when Max went to answer it, hoping it might be Bart. He was going to call when her dad was finally released from the hospital.
Max returned, looking at Cassie. “It’s Mrs. Boardman. She wants to know can you come over and help her? Her father-in-law fell down the back steps, and they think he broke his hip.”
“Oh, Lordy,” Cassie said, forgetting her dinner. “Tell her I’ll be right there.”
And so it was that on Saturday morning, Cassie went to Kalispell, driving the car with the new tires on it, to bring Mrs. Boardman home after she’d ridden over to the hospital in the ambulance with her father-in-law. And Addie was preparing to leave for her stint at the library. She looked at Buddy and Max and Grandpa uneasily. “Can you two keep track of him all day by yourselves?” Gus was not yet down for breakfast, but everyone knew he wasn’t going to be of any help. “Don’t leave him alone.”
“He can help us,” Max said cheerfully. “You can sit in your chair, Grandpa, and tell us which things to throw away and which ones to keep.”
“I suppose,” Grandpa said, “we could give most of my books to the library, unless Sister wants them.”
Addie nodded. “Good idea. Stack all the book boxes in the dining room, and I’ll sort them out later.”
And then they were left on their own with a whole, glorious expanse of time to search for the missing money.
Buddy had hoped it would be somewhere near at hand, perhaps having been dumped into a paper bag, whatever had come easily when they wanted to empty the carrying case. But for three hours they pawed through useless, worn-out items of no value whatever. Max went over to the grocery store with the wagon and came back with big boxes so they could pack up the things worth keeping. And he had one box from neighbors in which a new big-screen TV had arrived. They put that on the back porch for the items to be carried to the dump.
At noon they were dirty and tired. They fixed lunch and went back to their task, trying not to become discouraged. Grandpa, after listening to his talking clock, decided he would take a nap, but they didn’t stop working. Unless they yelled, it wasn’t likely they’d disturb his sleep.
Once in a while one of them turned up something interesting to remark upon, like a collection of miniature ship models thrown helter-skelter together in an oatmeal box. Max decided to ask for them when Grandpa woke up. Mostly, they opened up and hauled out stuff that nobody would have wanted.
Late in the afternoon Max collapsed on yet another box of books and wiped a hand across his face, leaving a dirty smear. “Let’s take a break. You want a can of pop?”
“Sure,” Buddy said, subdued. “I thought we’d find it before this, if it’s here.” Her eyes stung. “It has to be here, doesn’t it? But how can we guess where he’d have put it? His mind wasn’t very clear even then, was it?”
“Apparently not. I know they asked him about the money quite a few times after your mom was here and had left, and he never remembered anything about it.” Max’s voice drifted back from the kitchen. “Is a Coke okay?”
He brought back two cans, popping hers open before he handed it to her. He took a long swig, and then said in a strange voice, “Hey, Buddy.”
“What?”
“Maybe we’re the ones who aren’t thinking too straight. Maybe Grandpa couldn’t keep track of things a couple of years ago, but your mom could. Do you think she’d have taken a lot of cash out of that carrying bag and just let him dump it any old place? Where it could get lost?”
Buddy’s heart seemed to stop. She set down the pop can because she could hardly hold it. “No, of course not. She wasn’t stupid.”
“Then what would she have done with it?”
“Something sensible. Whatever it was, I’d have expected her to tell Cassie, or Addie, but apparently she didn’t.”
“Do we know if they were here when she left?”
Buddy tried to remember what Addie had said. “Somebody saw the flowered bag in Mama’s car on her way out of town. Mr. Faulkner, the school principal, I think. Addie thinks he’s an idiot, but she says he wouldn’t lie.”
“But by the time he saw her, she was leaving town, and she’d taken the money out of the flowered bag and put it somewhere else. Where?”
“I thought you kids were watching Grandpa!”
Addie’s voice was sharp, and they swung around to face the door. Grandpa’s bed was rumpled and empty.
Buddy jumped up so quickly, she nearly knocked over her pop can, catching it just in time. “Oh, no! He was sleeping just a minute ago—”
“He’s turning up the thermostat right now. Didn’t you notice how hot it was getting in here?” It was quite clear that Addie was annoyed with them.
Max muttered a curse and brushed past her in the doorway. “I hope he didn’t tear off our stopper again. At least he didn’t try to cook anything this time.”
Buddy was sorry they’d lost track of the old man for a few minutes, but she had something more important on her mind. “Aunt Addie, were you here when Mama left that last time, right after Grandpa’s money disappeared?”
“When she actually threw the bag in her car and drove away? No. It was a Thursday, and I worked at the library all day. She was gone—with the bag and the money—when I got home.”
“But the money wasn’t in the bag,” Buddy said. “Grandpa remembered. They took the money out so Mama could carry some letters in it. Only he doesn’t remember what they did with the money.”
A peculiar look came over Addie’s face. “Letters?” she echoed.
“That’s what he said. Letters that she found in the attic. There must have been a lot of them if she needed the bag to carry them.”
“Letters,” Addie murmured once more. “There was a box of letters she brought down from the attic . . . letters our parents had written to each other, years ago. She wanted to . . . edit them, and put them into a booklet form, so each of us could have copies, maybe even publish them. She said they were wonderful, inspiring letters, and they deserved to be read. . . .”
Addie was looking rather pale, and she sank into Grandpa’s chair and put up a hand to massage her throat. “She put the letters in the bag and . . . dear God, could she have put the money into the box she took the letters out of?”
“Where is everybody?” Cassie called out, coming in the back door. “Good grief, Grandpa’s been at the thermostat again, haven’t you, dear? Max, did you fix it? Addie, what’s the matter with you? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”
Addie’s mouth worked for a moment before she could summon her voice. “Maybe I have. Oh, God forgive me if I have. EllaBelle left the box on my desk, with a note on it to me—something about would I take care of this? I assumed she’d left the letters for me to return to the attic. It seemed like her—careless, inconsiderate, and it made me so angry!—oh, Cassie, I never even looked in the box to see if the letters were still there!”
Cassie was scowling. “What on earth are you talking about? I’ve had a perfectly dreadful, exhausting day, waiting around for June’s father-in-law to have his hip pinned, and driving her home practically in hysterics about what she was going to do with him when she had to take him out of the hospital. She’s afraid to take time off to take care of him because she’ll lose her job, which she needs urgently, but she won’t be able to leave him alone, either, and they said they’ll have him up and walking by tomorrow, imagine! He’ll have to have physical therapy, and learn to walk with crutches or a walker or something, but he won’t be able to shift for himself for weeks or even months—” Cassie ran out of air and gave her sister a fierce look. “Will you please explain to me what’s the matter with you? All of you?”
Addie was consciously trying to calm down, taking deep breaths. “Max,” she said. “Your legs are younger than mine, and I don’t think mine would work right now. Go up in the attic and find that box that had those letters in it. It’s about so big”—she gestured with her hands—“and it had a pink ribbon tied around it to hold it shut. It’s probably close to the top of the stairs, because there wasn’t room to walk very far into the attic.”
Max gave Buddy an excised, half-scared look, then bolted for the stairs.
He was back in only a few minutes, placing the box on Addie’s lap, where with trembling fingers she untied the ribbon and lifted the lid.
And there it was. Dozens of small bundles of cash, each with a paper band around it.
Buddy felt as if her bones had melted. When she saw the tears in Addie’s eyes, she didn’t have the heart to say, “I told you so.”
“She put the letters in the bag,” Cassie breathed, “and the money in the box, and she expected you to take it to the bank that way. She was in a hurry to leave because they were predicting a storm and she wanted to get home as soon as she could. And then of course her car slid on the ice and—” She swallowed hard.
It was too late to get the box of cash to the bank, and they couldn’t think of any better place to put it for safekeeping than to call Mr. Faulkner and ask to put it in the school safe until Monday. For once Addie didn’t treat him as if he were the village idiot instead of the school principal, and she expressed her gratitude to him for opening up the school after hours.
Addie had just taken the money off to the school when Grandpa’s talking clock announced the hour, and he asked querulously, “Is anybody doing anything about supper?”
After a moment Cassie said, “I never believed much in fast food, it’s not very healthy, but today I think we could make an exception. Max, why don’t you and Buddy run over to the Hayloft and get us a bag of hamburgers and whatever else they’ve got to go with them? Gus says they’re pretty good. Get enough for the Boardmans, too, and leave them off on your way home. She’s at least as worn out as I am. Take enough money out of my purse.”
Buddy doubted if anybody really tasted the food except for Grandpa, who demolished two burgers, an order of fries, and one of onion rings.
Addie, when she got back, didn’t apologize to Buddy for the things she had thought about her mother. She really didn’t have to. Her grief, her pain, were unmistakable. She made no pretense of trying to eat anything, though Cassie insisted she have at least a cup of tea.
Finally, after their fast-food supper, Cassie surveyed the work Max and Buddy had done through the day. “Well, you’ve gotten rid of a lot of it, but I hope you aren’t going to leave it like that. It’s still a mess. He’ll break his neck tripping over what’s left if you don’t finish the job.”
“Can’t we just move those few boxes and do the rest tomorrow?” Max wanted to know. “We’re beat, Cassie.”
It wasn’t until bedtime that Buddy remembered that she’d prayed about finding the money, and about restoring her mother’s reputation, and that she’d not yet given thanks for the answers to her prayers. She hoped God would understand that she wasn’t ungrateful, just too excited to think straight.
She awoke Sunday morning to the sound of the telephone, and then Cassie calling her. “Buddy, it’s your father!”
She practically flew out of bed, not worrying about being in her pajamas. “Daddy? Where are you?”
Her father’s voice, sounding normal and cheerful, came over the wires. “Still in the hospital, honey. It’s taken longer than they thought it would, but now they say I’ll probably get out in a few days, as soon as I’ve finished this course of IV-antibiotics. Then Bart will drive me to Montana. It was nice of Cassie to agree to have us stay there until I can go back to work, which will be another few weeks, probably. I’ve talked to the dispatcher at Edmonds Trucking, and they may have an opening at their headquarters in Missoula when I’m ready to drive again. It may work out that the sensible thing for right now is to set ourselves up somewhere near Haysville, so there’ll be relatives nearby. The company does some of its dispatching from Kalispell, and that’s not too far for me to get home between trips.”
“Haysville!” Buddy blurted out, stunned. Did she want to stay here, in Mr. Faulkner’s old school, with Mrs. Hope for a teacher, and all those strange kids? Yet, she’d been there two weeks now, and it hadn’t been too bad.
“Well, we’ll have to work that out. I just wanted to talk to you, be sure you were okay. Let you know I’m doing better.”
“I’m okay. Dad, Aunt Addie sold two books for quite a bit of money. And the money that was missing—well, you don’t know about it, but the money Grandpa got for the store, that disappeared, we found it last night. Do you remember seeing a little flowered bag—I think it was purple and pink—in Mama’s stuff? It probably had some family letters in it.”
Dad didn’t hesitate. “Yeah, I think I remember it. And the things inside of it were packed away with some of her other belongings, after she died, to look at later. Is it important?”
“Maybe. I’ll look for it when we get our stuff out of storage. Mama thought she might try to publish the letters. I’m glad you’re maybe going to be here by next weekend,” Buddy told him. “You’ll be here for Grandpa’s birthday party. He’s going to be ninety-two.”
Dad laughed. “Good for him. I always liked the old boy. Well, I have to go, but we’ll see you in a few days, Okay? And . . . I love you, Buddy.”
She sucked in a deep breath. “Dad—I hope it won’t hurt your feelings, but I’ve got a favor to ask of you.”
“I’m about as susceptible now as I’m ever going to be,” he said. “Ask away.”
“Could—would you be willing to call me by my real name from now on? Amy Kate? Buddy is such a stupid name for a girl.”
There was a silence, and then Dad sighed. “I guess you’re getting too grown up to be my Buddy, aren’t you? Well, it’ll take some getting used to. And I’ll probably forget and have to be reminded quite a few times. But I’ll try.”
She hung up and went to get dressed, feeling happy and encouraged, even if there was a chance they’d be stuck here in Haysville for a while.
She didn’t smell anything good from the kitchen. Everybody else was already around the table when she got there, even Gus, though he was grousing because there wasn’t any fresh orange juice. “You said you’d get some oranges for today,” he complained as Amy Kate slid into her place.
“I didn’t have time to think about oranges,” Cassie told him. “I was too busy with June Boardman and her father-in-law at the hospital.” She glanced at Amy Kate. “June and I went all the way through school together, ever since first grade. I wish there was something I could do to help her now. I’m afraid we’re running out of time this morning. I didn’t have time to fix anything fancy, so we’re just having cold cereal.”
“I like cornflakes,” Grandpa said. “Used to have them when I was a little boy.”
“I like them, too,” Amy Kate said, and upended the box over her bowl.
Addie stirred sugar into her coffee. “You know, Cassie, I had trouble going to sleep last night, and I got to thinking. Maybe we could help June and solve some of our own problems, too.”
“At least we’re not broke anymore,” Cassie said, encouraged. “But I don’t want to put Grandpa in a home—”
“I am home,” Grandpa said, proving that he didn’t always miss it when they talked about him.
“Of course you are,” Addie agreed. “And once the rest of that mess is cleared out of your room, there’d be room for another bed in there.”
Grandpa put down his spoon. “What would I want with another bed?” he asked.
“I was thinking that you might be willing to share your room with poor Don Boardman. He’s got a broken hip, and when he gets out of the hospital in a few days, he can’t come home because his bedroom’s on the second floor, and there’s no one home to take care of him while June works.”
Cassie’s mouth dropped open. “But you keep saying it’s too much work to look after one old man, so how do we look after two?”
“We hire someone to come in and look after both of them. Two someones, probably. A night-shift person so the rest of us can sleep, and then someone in the daytime to spell you so you can shop and go to church meetings, things like that. Remember how we used to sleep out on the screened porch when we were kids? It wouldn’t take much to fully enclose the back porch: windows instead of only screens, and put some sort of heating system out there. Make a place for a live-in worker, maybe. Don may never be able to navigate stairs again, and since his son and daughter-in-law live right next door, they could all visit back and forth as often as they wanted to. It wouldn’t cost much to put in a ramp so he wouldn’t have to use stairs.”
“Easy to put in a ramp,” Gus said unexpectedly. When they all looked at him, he added defensively, “I don’t mean me. Not with my bad back. But I could tell Max how to build it. Or with all that money you came up with, we could hire somebody to do it.”
“What a terrific idea.” Cassie glanced at her watch, then jumped to her feet. “Hurry up, everybody. We need to leave for church in half an hour. Leave the dishes, just move!”
They scattered in all directions; Max to pour milk into a bowl for Scamp.
“You think they’ll make us finish cleaning up the mess this afternoon? On Sunday?” Amy Kate asked.
Max looked at her with a grin. “Maybe, now that everybody’s rich, we can talk them into hiring someone to do that, too.”
“Maybe not,” she said. “Uh, listen, Max—”
“What?” He gave her his full attention now.
“I’ve decided I want to be called by my real name, Amy Kate. I’m not going to be Buddy anymore.”
“Good deal. I always thought you were too pretty to be called such a stupid name,” Max said, and headed for the stairs, leaving Amy Kate staring after him in total astonishment.
And then, smiling, she went to join the others to go to church.