14

ELLA AND SADIE WERE ENJOYING a vicious game of Scrabble on a TV tray in Gran’s room when they heard a vehicle drive up and stop.

“Maybe that’s Henry,” Sadie said. “He mentioned he’d be over with more of your mother’s canned stuff this afternoon.”

Ella wished Sadie would be more careful to include Gran in conversation. She might not be able to add much, but she certainly understood everything and had an opinion. Even now Ella could see that she had an opinion. One that Sadie was lucky she couldn’t express.

“I’ll go see.” Ella waggled a finger at Gran. “Keep an eye on Aunt Sadie. No peeking at my tiles.”

She walked through the kitchen and flung the door open expecting her father. Instead, Seth stood there with one hand raised as though to knock.

“Oh. I thought you were Dad.”

Seth looked over his shoulder. “No, it’s just me. I, uh, wanted to talk to you, if you have a minute.”

“Sure, come on in.” Ella opened the door wider. “Do you want to say hello to Gran? I’m sure she’d love to see you.”

“That sounds good, but why don’t we talk first?”

He seemed nervous, twisting his ball cap in his hands. Ella noticed the familiar dent in his hair, even as fear over what he might have to say insinuated itself between them. After her recent encounter with Mark, she felt edgy and uncertain.

“Okay.” She waved him over to the dinette, where they each took a seat.

“I was talking to Keith the other day”—Ella went tense inside; she hadn’t anticipated talking about the development—“and he was talking about needing someone to consult with his interior decorator. Now that the lodge is under construction, he’s got someone doing up the inside and he doesn’t think she knows enough about this part of the country to make it ‘true to place.’” He made little quotation marks in the air.

“Seems like maybe you had some ideas when he brought it up at the picnic.” Seth looked eager. “So I suggested he talk to you, especially since you’re an artist, and he said that sounded great to him. He was going to call you, but I said I’d come talk to you about it first.”

Ella leaned back in her chair. “Consult with an interior designer?”

Seth nodded. “I’m pretty sure he’ll pay you.”

Ella bristled, but then took a breath. Seth was trying to help and it was nice that he noticed she was an artist. Not everyone considered what she did to be art.

“I did have a few ideas. I guess maybe it wouldn’t hurt to talk to this designer. At least I’d know they weren’t going to junk the place up with little outhouses, corncob pipes, and mock moonshine stills.”

“A hat rack with a couple of coonskin hats on it might be nice, though.”

Ella must have let her horror show. Seth held up his hands. “Just kidding. I’m sure you can do much better than that.”

Ella felt her lips twitch. “Although Mason jars with handles might be just the ticket in the bar.”

“Now we’re talking,” Seth said, slapping the table.

“What are you kids up to out there? Ella, if you don’t come finish this game, I’m going to consider it a forfeit.”

Ella smiled and stood. “Aunt Sadie, do you remember Seth? He works with Will.”

“Nice to see you. Do you play Scrabble?”

Seth raised his eyebrows. “I’ve been known to give my parents a run for their money.”

“Excellent. Now we can play three-handed, although I really believe Mother could make it four if she’d try.”

Seth followed them into Gran’s room. Ella saw her grandmother watching them with what she’d come to think of as her eagle eye. The right eye still didn’t fully cooperate, but the left one seemed to make up for it. And the message she was getting just then was that Gran wanted to play.

“Seth, I think you’ve given Gran a little extra pep. Looks like we’ll be playing all four sides after all.”

“It’s about time,” Sadie said, but Ella thought she sounded a little softer. Like maybe she really was glad to see Gran trying something new.

Perla found herself liking this Seth fellow more and more. He knew all those sneaky little Scrabble words worth lots of points, while Sadie relied on her extensive vocabulary. As a result he was whipping all three of them and doing it with grace and good humor.

While she’d been glad to see Ella spending some time with Richard, she thought it wouldn’t hurt her granddaughter one little bit to go see a movie or some such with Seth. He clearly liked her. She’d even seen him slip Ella a vowel when she was stuck. She watched Seth lay down three tiles and score forty-eight points. She would have smiled, but didn’t trust her mouth to cooperate.

And now that she thought about it, Ella seemed to like Seth right back. She kept fiddling with her hair, and her cheeks were rosy. Yes, Perla surely knew the signs. She also knew how dangerous it could be to fancy yourself in love too soon. Better that Ella have several beaus and not settle on one anytime soon.

They wrapped up the game, and Perla let Ella know how tired she’d grown. It was the strangest, most blessed thing, the way Ella seemed almost able to read her mind. And when she attempted to speak—which had gotten a bit better but still had a long way to go—her granddaughter understood her with ease. If only she could convey something as complex as what had happened during the summer of 1948.

As Sadie packed away the game, Ella helped Perla get comfortable. She could get around now if she really needed to, but it was such a chore. She felt trapped in a body that wouldn’t listen to her. Some days she wanted to yell at her hand to do as she said, to scold her foot into following her directions. But she’d have to speak to do that.

Seth stepped over and laid a work-roughened hand on her shoulder. “I’ve enjoyed my afternoon with you ladies. And it’s good to see you so pert, Mrs. Phillips. I hope you won’t mind if I come again.”

Perla smiled before she forgot that she couldn’t, but Seth didn’t flinch, just smiled in return. She nodded to let him know she’d be glad to see him again. She looked at Ella and then back at him, hoping he’d understand her encouragement. He looked surprised, but then winked at her and squeezed her shoulder.

“I’ll be seeing you, and soon.”

“Good,” said Perla, mentally scrambling for what came next. “Bye.” That was it. She felt pleased with herself.

Once the room was empty, she sank back into her pillows and did the breathing exercises her therapist had shown her. Somehow it freed up her mind and she found she could make connections that escaped her otherwise. Yes, there it was. Pert. Seth wasn’t the first man to call her that.

“You’re looking mighty pert.” Sonny had avoided her since confessing that he was married, but then on Sunday morning he fell in beside her as she walked to church.

Perla wanted to snub him after learning about his wife. Then she’d gotten Imogene to fill her in on the real reason Sonny was there, and she felt sorry for him more than anything. He’d secretly married Hannah, the daughter of a man his father claimed had cheated him out of a fine horse. Sonny’s parents were horrified when they found out, as were Hannah’s parents. The adults, never having had common ground before, came together to separate their children. Hannah was sent to her aunt in Kentucky while Sonny was banished to Chuck and Imogene’s. The hope was that they would forget each other and the marriage could be quietly put down.

Perla had almost asked Imogene what Sonny’s real name was, yet she couldn’t bring herself to do it. It was his to tell—or not.

“Guess you miss your wife,” she said.

Sonny looked like a rabbit caught out in the open by a fox. He stumbled a step and then settled back into his usual saunter. “I shouldn’t have told you about that.”

“Why not?”

“You might not like me so much now.”

Perla flipped her hair and tugged at one glove. She smiled sideways. “Maybe I never did like you all that much. Maybe I was only pretending.”

Sonny stopped and turned toward her. Perla went past him a few steps, then looked back. Maybe she shouldn’t tease him like that—she’d just wanted to lighten the mood.

“Perla, I don’t think you’d ever pretend to like someone. Not even a little bit.” He looked so serious. “You’re the most honest person I’ve ever met.” He ducked his head. “And I surely am grateful for your friendship.”

Perla started walking again, and Sonny fell in beside her. She didn’t speak for a moment, trying to get her thoughts in order.

“Thank you for saying that.” She glanced at him and felt her cheeks grow hot. “I’m glad we’re friends, too.”

Sonny gave her a sad smile and reached out to squeeze her fingers. She felt something pure and good move between them—understanding, sympathy, maybe even love. Not the romantic kind, but the kind when two people find they understand each other better than they thought possible. When Sonny’s hand slid away, Perla had to restrain herself from reaching after him. She wanted to feel like that always.