Chapter Three

Laura opened the front door to a thin, wiry woman in her late seventies holding an umbrella. Her gray hair, cut in a pageboy, framed a pixie-like face with laugh lines at the corners of her blue eyes.

“Mrs. Morgan, please come in. It’s nice to see you again.”

“I just wanted to see if you were all right and needed anything. And please, call me Ginny, everyone else does.”

Laura smiled at her. “Pete told me you cleaned the house. That was very nice of you.”

Ginny leaned her dripping umbrella against the stone wall of the entry and as they stepped into the living room, glanced around with a satisfied smile. “I didn’t really have a lot to do. You know what a stickler your aunt was for a clean house.” She turned to Laura, “I’ll miss her, but it’s good she went quietly in her sleep. Her heart just gave out.”

“Was she having heart problems?”

“She had a couple of minor strokes over the past year and evidently they weakened her heart.”

“I’m so sorry I didn’t come sooner.” Laura’s lower lip quivered and Ginny stepped forward and put her arms around her. “Now don’t you go taking all that guilt. You had a life of your own to lead and she knew that.”

“I…I miss her so much.”

Ginny patted her on the shoulder.

Laura stepped back and grabbed a tissue from the box on the stone coffee table. Then, remembering her manners, she turned back to Ginny.

“Won’t you sit down?”

“Thanks honey, but I have to be getting back home. I just came over to invite you to supper with us tonight.” She reached over and patted Laura’s arm. “George and I thought you might not feel like eating alone. We’d love to have you. I’m making some fried chicken.” She eyed Laura expectantly.

Laura remembered Ginny’s fried chicken. “I’d love to join you. Are you sure I won’t be any trouble?”

“Nonsense, child, we’ll be glad for the company. George may even try to talk you into a cribbage game.”

She didn’t feel much like playing any games tonight, but she wouldn’t hurt the Morgan’s feelings for anything after all they’d done for her aunt.

“Aunt Estelle taught me to play that.” A young girl and an old woman laughing in front of the fire, playing cribbage on the coffee table. “Sometimes I thought Aunt Estelle put her best cards in the “crib” on purpose for me.”

Ginny grinned outrageously. “George gave you the benefit of the doubt too until you started beating the pants off him. I know he’ll enjoy a game or two. We’ll see you about 5:30. Is that time all right?”

“That’ll be fine, thank you.”

Ginny waved a hand as she hurried towards the front door and picked up her umbrella.

The mention of food made Laura realize she was hungry. She heated some water for tea to have with the sandwich she’d bought on the way. As she unwrapped the egg salad sandwich she couldn’t help thinking of the man in line ahead of her at the deli.

He’d towered over her. Not in a good mood either. She thought of the girl’s remark “That’s just Sam, he’s had a hard time.” What kind of a hard time? Maybe his girlfriend had broken up with him. She found herself looking down at her ring.

Now, as she waited for the kettle to boil, she glanced up above the stove. The stuffed chickens on the shelf above the stove looked down at her, their bright glass eyes seemed to be watching her with curiosity. She turned and unhooked one of the cupboard doors with framed chicken wire fronts and took out a cup and saucer in the Blue Willow pattern. She’d always liked these dishes.

Maybe I’ll keep those.

She felt more comfortable in the house now. Like her aunt’s arms, the house seemed to wrap itself around her.

After fumbling with the matches and tinder, she built a small fire in the fireplace and settled on the couch with the tray. The rain, rejuvenated after its short reprieve, pelted the window with persistency. Here, alone, she was going to have a lot of time to think and examine her feelings, yet she was not sure she was ready to do that.

Her cell phone rang, but when she flipped the lid there was just static and she noted the number that had called. It was Alan. The mountains probably interfered with reception. She debated calling him back on the house phone but decided she wasn’t ready to do that yet either. Alan McKay could just wait.

After her lunch she wandered through the house, opening cupboards, drawers and closets, peering at the contents. Finally, she went back into her aunt’s room and stood looking at her aunt’s pink bathrobe. She slipped it from the hanger and all at once felt like the young girl who had come here so long ago. She wrapped the robe around her shoulders. The lump returned to her throat and the hot tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Oh Aunt Estelle, I miss you. You’d understand about Alan. You’d know what to do. I need to talk to someone. I’m so confused right now.” She twisted the ring on her left hand and the solitaire diamond sparkled in the glow of the bedside lamp.

Giving way to her tears and the pain in her heart, Laura curled up on her aunt’s bed and pulled the robe around her. With the steady hypnotizing beat of the rain on the roof, she buried her face in her aunt’s pillow.