Traces

by Betty Bolte

  “Damn it all.” Paulette shook her head and frowned. “I still think you need to reconsider your scheme. Destroying our heritage—this elegant, historic building—won’t bring back Willy. Didn’t he love architecture as much as you? Would he really want you to go through with this harebrained idea?”

  Meredith slowly stacked the last book, trailing a finger along its cover as she tried to recall Willy’s face. She could make out the general outline, but the details had faded like an old photograph. His features in her mind’s eye had blurred, leaving behind only the trace of his image. Her gaze saw through the mental vision and lighted upon Grandma’s rocking chair.

  The very chair where her grandmother had sewn for years, decades. The arms of the chair had served as pincushions at times, holding a threaded needle between projects. Meredith walked over to the chair and sank down on the plush seat. The graceful armrests had been carved in the shape of a goose’s neck, a long bill touching the base of the throat to form handles. Those handles were worn from Grandma’s hands resting upon them. Grandma had rocked her own children to sleep sitting in this very chair. She pushed back and set the chair into motion. Grandma loved to rest in this chair, telling her grandchildren family stories of generations past. The plantation house and surrounding acres had been a character in each of them as the family members in the stories changed over time. Stories that reached down to when Meredith’s own parents were young and lived in the house.

  Paulette cleared her throat. “Well?”

  “I hear you, but…” Meredith looked at her sister and swallowed the lump in her throat. “What else can I do?”

  * * * *

  Later that afternoon Meredith wandered into the kitchen to fetch some cold lemonade. She retrieved a glass and poured the pale yellow liquid into it. The sweet, lemony scent made her mouth water. Paulette walked in as Meredith set the pitcher onto the table and lifted the glass to take a sip.

  “Guess what?” Paulette sashayed to the cabinet and grabbed another glass, plunking it down beside the pitcher.

  “I give.” Meredith took the hint and poured lemonade into the waiting vessel.

  “I called our folks.” Her smile was not camouflaged by the sip Paulette took from the glass.

  “You did what?” Oh no. Not now. Meredith didn’t need more visitors in the midst of everything else. She scraped a chair out and flopped onto it.

  Paulette set her glass on the table and let her grin show. “Mom and Dad were thrilled with the idea of coming back for a long weekend. They’ll be here this afternoon.”

  “I can’t believe you would do such a thing. I knew it was a mistake to have you stay.” Meredith slammed a hand onto the kitchen table, making the salt and pepper shakers as well as the stems of daffodils in the cut-glass vase do a little dance. “I’m trying to clear out the house, not inhabit it. This is my house, and you’re not entitled to invite anyone over to stay. Got it?”

  “It’s our folks; why can’t I?” Paulette stared her down.

  “B-because it’s not your decision to make. Damn it, Paulette.” She rubbed a hand over her face and then shook her head at her sister. She didn’t want to admit it, but she’d thought of doing the same thing. A grin twitched onto her lips. “Besides, I was going to call them later.”

  A smirk flitted across Paulette’s face. She walked to the fridge and peered inside, the cold air rushing across the kitchen floor to cool Meredith’s bare toes. Retrieving an apple, she pushed the door shut and turned to face Meredith.

  “I’m glad you agree it was a brilliant idea.” Paulette took a bite of the red fruit. “After all, we haven’t all been together in ages.”

  Meredith refused to feel guilty about that fact. She’d tried to gather her family together years before, but between Paulette’s continual financial shortfall and her parents’ globetrotting, a family reunion had proved impossible to orchestrate. Well, until now. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Dad had contacts in the recycling world who would likely love to snatch up the marble fireplaces and the solid pine floorboards, if nothing else. Her mom, too, would know which antiques were worth auctioning or donating. Yes, Paulette did have a pretty good idea in seeking their help.

  “We’ll need to clean another room upstairs for them to use.” Meredith pushed up from her seat. “I’ll see if Meg has time. Can you check the grocery status? I may need to make a run to Edna’s.”

  “Will do. You’ll need to stop at the liquor store as well. After all, we must have plenty of whiskey for Dad and wine coolers for Mom too.” Paulette moved to the pantry and pulled the door open. “Oh, we’ll need potato chips and mixed nuts. You know how they like to snack.”

  “Didn’t I say this was a bad idea? They’ll eat us out of house and home.” Meredith shook her head, but a smile found its way to her lips. “I don’t care if it will be good to see them again. It’s still a lot of work to make ready for them. They can be so demanding and all.”

  Paulette threw a smile over her shoulder. “I knew you’d come around.”

  “Don’t get any other bright ideas without telling me first, okay?” Meredith dialed Meg’s phone number.

  “La-la-la, I can’t hear you,” Paulette sang, her head stuck back in the pantry’s depths.

  When Meg answered, Meredith relayed her request and then hung up the phone. “Meg will be here in a few minutes. So what else do I need at the store?”

  Between the two of them, they made a quick grocery list. Meredith grabbed her purse and keys. “I’ll be back shortly. While I’m gone, can you straighten up the double parlor? We’ll need more seats when our folks get here.”

  “Aye-aye, Captain.” Paulette mock-saluted as Meredith walked out the door.

  The drive into Roseville seemed to pass in a flash. Along the way, the fields boasted neat rows of corn or cotton. She’d not paid much attention on previous trips, but the green of the crops seemed bright and clear. The cloudless blue sky appeared nearly as intense as Max’s eyes. She sighed. Now why on Earth did she think of him? He was nothing but a kink in the wrecking-ball chain.

  Edna’s wasn’t very busy this early on a Thursday afternoon. Steering her car into a parking spot near the entrance, she locked her door and headed inside, grocery list pinched between fingers and thumb. She snagged a buggy and started making her way up and down the aisles. As she turned at the end of the pasta-and-sauces aisle, Max waved to her.

  “Fancy running into you here,” Max said, joining her. “I was about to call you too.”

  “Shouldn’t you be in court or something?” Meredith placed a jar of marinara sauce in the buggy. “It’s the middle of the day.”

  “I had an appointment at the high school.” Max picked up a box of spaghetti noodles and added it to Meredith’s buggy. “You’ll need some of this to go with the sauce.”

  “Thanks. But is something wrong at the school?” Meredith fidgeted as he did the guy thing; the once-over when a man meets a woman. She hadn’t bothered with changing from shorts, tee, and flip-flops or pulling up her hair. She squirmed inside, feeling exposed and vulnerable under his scrutiny.

  “Not a thing.” He grinned, seeming to understand he made her uncomfortable. “We had a rehearsal, and I thought of you. I was going to call you to invite you to a concert tomorrow night. Unless, of course, you’ll be busy tearing down Twin Oaks.”

  “Shhh.” Meredith darted a glance about her, assessing how close other ears may be. “Don’t say that out loud.”

  Max cocked a brow and smiled. “Why? Ashamed of yourself?”

  “I don’t need the whole town knowing my business.”

  “So, if you’re not otherwise occupied, want to hear some good music with me?”

  “You mean, a date?” She wished she’d taken at least a little time with her appearance before dashing out the door. Not that she really cared what she looked like, given she wasn’t in the market for a man. Still, she liked to put her best foot through the door first.

  “No, just a
friendly evening out with a large group.” Max shifted the basket in his left hand to his right. “The high school choir and jazz band give a spring concert, and it’s tomorrow and Saturday nights. Want to come hear them? They’re really good.”

  “My parents are coming into town today from Memphis, a surprise visit, so I’m not sure I can get away.” What would be the point of listening to the local high school choir sing or the band play? She wasn’t planning to stay, so there was no need to support them. Not that one ticket would make or break their finances.

  “Bring them along. Paulette too.” Max snagged a bottle of grated parmesan cheese and put it in Meredith’s buggy.

  “Good catch, I’d have forgotten that.” He added things to her buggy with the ease and familiarity of a married couple. His action seemed natural and right despite the apparent oddity of it. Meredith studied the boyish grin on Max’s face, an expression of anticipation and expectation. He’d invited not only her but her entire family, most of whom she hadn’t seen in ages, to a concert. A family outing, how quaint. “I’ll see if they’d like to, but don’t count on it.”

  “You may enjoy the accompanist.” Max shifted his weight, bringing him closer to her. “I’ll be on piano.”

  “You play? I’d never have guessed.” Meredith looked at him with new interest. “What kind of music are we talking about?”

  “My favorite is classical, but of course the choir can’t sing to that.” He leaned toward her conspiratorially. “So I’ve had to agree to play pop tunes and songs from favorite musicals mixed with some R&B.”

  “No hip-hop?” She stepped to one side to let an elderly woman pass. The additional space between her and Max enabled her to breathe again.

  “Sadly, no, but I am going to accompany an up-and-coming trumpeter in the jazz band. Sue’s grandson.” Max closed the distance between them. “Please try to come. The concert is the highlight each spring.”

  His cologne reminded her of hiking deep in the woods, earthy and tangy combined. His eyes seemed to reflect the sky she’d seen on her drive into town. And that mouth, God, what a kissable mouth he had. Heat rose in her cheeks at the memory of their brief intimate moments together. Resisting with all her being the sudden compulsion to touch him, to repeat their kisses, Meredith shrugged. “Why not? It might even be fun.”

  * * * *

  The windows sparkled after Paulette’s and Meg’s cleaning frenzy. Meredith turned her Camaro into the driveway. The front double doors stood wide open. Hopefully, the cat was taking her afternoon nap and thus stayed inside. Paulette emerged onto the porch and waved. A chill swept through Meredith at the thought of standing on the front porch. She’d nearly forgotten the intense compulsion to open the door the night Max had burst into the house. Was Paulette having the same experience? She drove around back and parked the car and gathered up the grocery sacks.

  Grizabella met her in the kitchen with a plaintive meow. Seeing her shot relief through Meredith. But the doors needed to be closed before the front-declawed feline ventured outdoors. Dropping the bags on the counter, Meredith strode through the house. As she drew near to the open doors, she saw Paulette placing a folding chair beside a small table and a matching chair. Dragging the doors closed behind her, she stepped cautiously onto the porch.

  “What’s going on?” She folded her arms against the sudden chill sweeping over her.

  “Folks should arrive soon, and I thought it would be fun to wait for them out here.” Paulette opened her arms wide, encompassing the expansive front yard reaching to the highway forming a T with the drive a quarter mile away. “Like old times.”

  “All this reminiscing…” Meredith let her gaze travel across the span. The grass needed cutting, and the gravel drive could use more stone. The immense trees evoked memories of hide-and-seek and baseball games. Yet her senses tuned to the cool spring air surrounding them.

  Paulette sank into one of the strapped chairs and crossed her legs. “I love this view.”

  “Yes, it’s stunning.” Meredith gazed out over the yard for another moment and then sat in the other chair. The groceries could wait a few minutes. She crossed her ankles and tried to relax back against the green and yellow vinyl straps, but a deep-seated tension knotted her insides. Something was off, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. She inhaled but didn’t detect the sweet scent she’d come to expect.

  “I’ve always wondered,” Paulette murmured, snaring Meredith’s attention, “whether you ever saw her.”

  “Who?” Meredith wrapped her arms around her waist. She suspected she knew the answer to that question, given recent sightings.

  “It’s silly, actually.” Paulette blew out her breath, making her bangs lift and fall.

  “Go on.”

  “When I was much younger, I used to have dreams about this beautiful yet sad woman.”

  “In a blue ball gown?” The chill inside Meredith threatened to rattle her teeth.

  “You too?” Paulette’s expression intensified.

  “At least I’m not the only one.” Relief eased through Meredith, but it raised a bigger question. “Was it a dream or—”

  “A ghost?” Paulette asked. “I don’t know. Either way, I’ve always been drawn to this porch and this view. There’s something peaceful and compelling about being here, in this spot. But also a sense of expectation, like waiting for a loved one to return home. You know?”

  “Yes, I’ve been compelled to be out here before as well.” She chuckled, releasing nervous energy. “I don’t understand why, though.”

  Paulette sprang to her feet. “Me, either. Maybe it’s these giant columns calling to us. Trying to lend us some of their solid strength.”

  Meredith shook her head. “They’re hollow, so no luck with that hope.”

  Paulette peered up the height of the columns, three on each side of the porch steps. “They look so wide; they must be.”

  “When I built my replica of Twin Oaks, Dad told me about how they made them. They were built in pieces and shipped here from up north. The cost of creating and shipping solid columns would have been prohibitive. That’s the only thing I was required to compromise on in my dollhouse. I had to make them from dowel rods because Dad said it would be easier even though not accurate.”

  Paulette approached a center column and examined it. Then she used her open palm to smack it once, and then again. “This one sounds solid.”

  Meredith sighed. “You don’t believe me?”

  In response, Paulette moved to the next column and smacked it as well. “Solid, definitely.”

  Meredith shook her head as she rose to her feet. “Nope. Sorry, but Dad said so. He should know, what with being in construction and reconstruction.”

  “Even Dad’s not right all the time.” Paulette smacked the next and the next, with the same result.

  Meredith moved to the last one. “Here, I’ll prove it to you.” She raised her hand and smacked the sixth column. But instead of the same sound, Meredith’s hit didn’t echo like the others had.

  “What did you do different? Here, let me.” Paulette sashayed to where Meredith stood. She raised her hand and smacked the column.

  “Why does it sound deeper?” Meredith searched her brain for a plausible reason but came up empty. No way would they have built only one solid column. She eyed the structure standing twenty feet tall and three feet in diameter. The concept of trying to move such a heavy and cumbersome object over land via wagon or even train was mind-boggling.

  The crunch of tires on gravel had them both turning to scan the yard to the mouth of the driveway. A steel-gray SUV pulled slowly up the stone road.

  “They’re here.” Paulette skipped down the steps and hurried to meet the car.

  Meredith glanced at the odd column, the chill inside her spreading, before she tore herself away and went to greet her parents.

  Chapter 12

  “What happened here?” Tall and broad, the gray-haired man assessed the exterior of the house, fists p
ropped on his hips as his head swiveled up, down, left, and right.

  “Nothing, Dad.” Meredith strode up beside Brock O’Connell. “Yet, anyway.”

  “Darling, you know how he gets,” Dina O’Connell said, emerging from the gray SUV.

  “Hi, Mom. You look great. Traveling the world suits you.” Meredith hugged her mom, her robust frame comforting.

  “I do love being free to come and go,” Dina said.

  “What are you going to do about this?” Brock said, brows drawn together, accusing finger pointed at the sill board resting on the stone foundation.

  “What are you talking about?” Paulette asked, peering at the building. “I don’t see anything wrong.”

  “He’s talking about the fact that the lower boards are beginning to rot and should be replaced.” Meredith walked to the foundation on the side of the house and pointed to the evidence. “See here. The wood is warped, probably from a leak somewhere along the joint between the rock foundation and the siding.”

  “I have my tools in the truck.” Brock marched up beside her. “Do you have the boards, or should I go into the lumber yard and pick some up?”

  “You just got here. Don’t worry about it, Dad,” Meredith said. “It won’t matter in the long run.”

  He turned puzzled eyes to look at her. “Why on Earth would you not want to fix it? If we do it quickly, the damage will be minimized.”

  “Take off your construction hat, Dad,” Paulette said, bitterness in her voice. “She’s planning to raze the place.”

  Meredith shot her sister a look she hoped would shut her up. She hadn’t wanted to reveal her intentions quite so soon after her parents arrived. Rather, she’d wait until they’d had a chance to catch up on what was happening with each of them. A chance for Meredith to help them follow her precisely ordered, logical plan.