Bran New Death

“That would be good.”

She looked tired and bewildered, and I wondered what that was all about. Maybe she had a boyfriend she wasn’t talking about, and she had met him but they had had a fight. That was a whole lot of “ifs,” though. Dinah Hooper walked in the door at that moment, and Bi

I hung about for a few minutes, and we chitchatted, but neither woman said much of interest. Dinah was talking about her decision to open a floral and décor shop, while Bi

I was mystified.

Something had upset Bi

During our many conversations, I had learned that McGill had lost his wife around the same time I had lost Miguel. He seemed to be open to new romance though, while I was mired in the past, swallowed alive by my sense of loss, still, after seven years. How was McGill managing, even with a girl as extraordinary as Shilo? Most widows and widowers that I knew of moved on more quickly than I was able to, though. All around me, folks were getting together and going on with their lives, while I still mourned the only man I had ever loved. Miguel was going to be a hard act to beat, and maybe that was my problem. I still measured every man I met and had a passing interest in against his perfection.

I checked in with the vet’s office after lunch, but though Becket was doing better, he wasn’t quite ready to leave. I could practically hear dollar bills winging their way out of my wallet. I decided I may as well take the muffins to Golden Acres, so I drove there and parked on the sloping road, then circled the building to the back, where I delivered the baked goods to the kitchen.

Then I went through to the old section of the retirement residence. There was some kind of event going on in the community room; I could tell by the laughter. I followed the sound, and entered through the pocket doors. Ha

“Merry!” she cried. “You’re just in time! It’s Random Quote Day.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“It’s a game,” she said, her huge eyes sparkling.

Lizzie was sitting in the corner talking to Mr. Dread, and ignoring everyone else. I let her be for the moment, and joined the turmoil that swirled around Ha

“It’s your turn,” she said, and tossed me a book. She named a page and line number swiftly. “Read it now!”

I didn’t have time to protest, nor did I notice the book title, so, with everyone eyeing me, I opened to the page and sca

“Who’s next?” she said.

I wanted to find Gogi, but I murmured to Ha

In the reception area the same girl I had met before—and whose name I had forgotten—was ably filling her post as combination watchdog and phone answerer. “Is Gogi Grace available?” I asked her.

She turned her brown-eyed gaze on me, and tears welled. “I’m sorry,” she said, her light Irish accent soft and vibrant. “She isn’t able to see anyone at this moment.”

“Is everything okay?” I asked, a little alarmed by her evident sadness.

She glanced around and leaned forward. “Everything is just fine, but . . . she’s . . . she’s having a vigil for a terminally ill patient right now, someone who has no family. She’s asked not to be disturbed.”

“That’s so sad! Who is it?”

She shook her head. “It’s no one you would know. The lady has been confined to her bed for years; she’s 103. No one left even remembers her. But Mrs. Grace won’t let her leave alone.”

“Thank you. I . . . I wish her well.” I turned away and spotted Lizzie, standing partly shrouded by the potted fern by the door. She stared at me, her eyes dark and red-rimmed. The girl had been crying, and I wanted to know why. “Do you want to talk?” I asked. She nodded. “Let’s go outside.”

Chapter Twenty-two

WE WALKED OUT to the benches out front; that was as good a place as any, since I hoped to catch both Ha

“How are you doing?” I asked, to kick-start the conversation. With a moody teenager, I could wait all day before she would do it.

She shrugged.

“You going back to school yet?”

“Still suspended.”

“What did you do, anyway?”

“They didn’t like my sweatshirt.”

Surprise, surprise. “How’d you sleep? I hope it wasn’t too bad, thinking about what we found in the woods.”

She shrugged again. “I don’t care about that.” She paused, but then went on, saying, “My mom came back to the house this morning.”

“Oh?”

“Why is she suddenly pretending like she cares?” Lizzie asked, kicking at the grass that edged the walkway.

“Maybe she really does care, Lizzie. I know it doesn’t feel like it, from your aspect. Has she messed things up between you?”

“We were doing fine until she hauled us back here. Then she just handed me to Grandma and took off.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, because it wasn’t my place to defend either woman, nor did I know enough of the story to know who was in the right or who was in the wrong. “Was she trying to straighten things out, maybe? Did she figure you needed a safe place to live until she could do that?”

“Yeah, well, she said she’d be back for me and that we’d be able to live together again, and then she just . . .” Lizzie glared up at the sky.

I stayed silent, not sure if pointing out that her mom seemed to be trying to keep her word would help. From the conversation I had overheard, it appeared that she had come back and wanted Lizzie to live with her, though the grandmother was blocking the effort.