“Miss Fitzpatrick,” a man said. “This is Morton Devorah. I was the late Mr. Tupworth’s literary agent.”
Claire listened, fascinated, as Tuppy’s agent outlined a publisher’s six figure offer for her to contribute additional material to Tuppy’s book.
“That’s a huge advance these days,” he said. “Unfortunately murder and scandal make excellent bargaining tools.”
“I have a confidentiality agreement,” Claire said. “I can’t divulge any information about Sloan.”
“According to Mr. Tupworth those documents were all lost during the transfer of Ms. Merryweather’s legal files from one firm to another.”
“I can’t comment on that,” Claire said.
“The Tupworths have expressed interest in publishing on their son’s behalf,” he said, “but you’ve known her for 20 years; that would give the book more credibility.”
“Thank you, but no,” Claire said. “I’m ready to leave all that behind me.”
Mr. Devorah assured Claire he would try again. Claire assumed he thought she was playing hard to get in order to push the price up.
Scott was surprised to see Sarah at his mother’s front door.
“Skip and Frank are on duty today,” Scott said, stepping outside rather than inviting her in. “Was there something you specifically needed me for?”
“I just wanted to let you know we caught the hit-and-run driver who killed Mr. Tupworth.”
“That’s good news,” Scott said. “Who was it?”
“A couple of college kids were drag-racing,” Sarah said. “I got a tip they were attempting to move the car to another location and was able to get there before they did. The damage to the car is consistent with what we thought happened, plus I have a recorded conversation of the driver admitting he did it.”
“That’s certainly another feather in your cap,” Scott said. “Congratulations.”
“How’s your mother?” she asked.
“Not well,” Scott said.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Sarah asked.
Scott must have conveyed his disbelief in her sincerity through his facial expression because she said, “I mean it; I want to help if I can.”
“Thanks, Sarah,” he said. “I’ll let you know.”
She started to leave and then turned back.
“If you got any complaints about me you’d let me know, wouldn’t you? I mean, before you passed them on to my supervisor?”
“What did you do?”
“Nothing,” Sarah said. “I’m just reminding you that we need to have the kind of professional relationship where we watch out for each other. I make you look good and you make me look good.”
“I’ll let you know if I hear anything,” Scott said.
“Good,” she said, and left.
“I wonder what she’s done now,” Scott said to himself as he went back inside. “Although I’m sure I’ll hear about it before the day’s over.”
When Delia got home Claire was in the kitchen cutting her father’s hair.
“Your hand still looks awful,” Delia said, “although the swelling is down.”
“It looks worse than it is,” Claire said.
“What’d you do to your hand?” Ian asked, and grabbed it to take a look.
“She accidently slammed a door on it,” Delia said.
“The hell you did,” Ian said. “Who’d you take a poke at?”
“Knox,” Claire whispered in his ear, “but don’t tell.”
Ian laughed.
“I wish I’d seen that,” he said. “My darlin’ girl decked that insufferable bastard.”
“Ian!” Delia said. “Claire would never hit someone. And don’t curse in my house.”
“Good for you,” Ian said to Claire. “Don’t let anyone give you any guff.”
“Did you see your boxes arrived?” Delia asked her daughter.
“Yes,” Claire said. “I’ve only been here a week but none of my pants fit.”
“You should have seen her eating biscuits and gravy at the depot,” Ian said. “She needed a shovel.”
‘Thanks, Dad,” Claire said.
“Kay wants to know if you’ll sing at church this Sunday,” Delia said. “Her daughter’s got a bad sore throat and doesn’t think she’ll be able to do it.”
“What’s the song?”
“The Lord’s Prayer.”
“I’m ashamed to admit I may not remember the words.”
“I can’t remember lots of things,” Ian said.
“We’ll practice until you do remember,” Delia said. “Think how it would look if you needed to read the words to ‘The Lord’s Prayer.’”
“Is this going to be a thing now?” Claire asked. “Where I have to sing in church every Sunday?”
“It would be nice,” Delia said, “if you thought of it as something you wanted to do and not a chore.”
“Just this once,” Claire said. “That’s all I’m promising.”
Claire’s mother smiled in a way that showed she had got her way, and Claire knew this would indeed become a regular thing.
“I saw Scooter Scoley over at Curtis’s station the other day,” Ian said. “He said you were going to sing with him, but I don’t remember where.”
“That would be fun for you,” Delia said.
“Tomorrow night in the Thorn,” Claire said. “I’m getting butterflies just thinking about it.”
“All the more reason to practice,” Delia said. “I need to get our piano tuned.”
“Do you remember singing at my mother’s funeral?” Ian asked Claire.
“I certainly do,” Claire said. “I’m surprised you do.”
“You sang like a bird,” Ian said. “It did my heart proud to hear it.”
“‘Abide with Me,’” Delia said. ‘That’s what she sang.”
“There wasn’t a dry eye in the house,” Ian said.
“Including mine,” Claire said. “How is it you can remember that?”
“He can remember the distant past much better than the recent past,” Delia said. “It’s something about where older memories are stored versus newer ones.”
“I can’t remember why I can’t remember,” Ian said. “Did I get hit on the head or something?”
“Might be,” Delia said.
“I played a lot of football when I was in school,” he said. “That was probably it.”
“I’m sorry it took me so long to get to this,” Claire said as she resumed cutting her father’s hair.
“It’s just like the plumber,” he said, “but I can’t remember why that is.”
“How was the, um, talk with Sarah?” Delia asked her.
“It was fine,” Claire said. “I’m just glad to have it over with. How’s Scott?”
“Well, your cousin Maggie is over there, believe it or not,” Delia said.
“Oh, I believe it,” Claire said. “They belong together.”
“You missed your chance,” Ian said. “She must be a better kisser.”
Delia looked at Claire as if to say, “What?” but Claire just shook her head.
“Everything’s going to turn out like it should,” Claire said. “I’m back home, Maggie and Scott are back together, and you’re finally getting a haircut.”
“I’ve got hairs in my ears,” Ian said.
“Don’t you worry about that,” Claire said. “I’ve got plans for your ears, your nose, and your eyebrows.”
“Claire’s going to make me beautiful,” Ian told Delia.
Delia stooped down to kiss his cheek as she passed by.
“You’re always beautiful to me, Chief,” she said.
There was a commotion outside and Delia looked out the back door window.
“Where’s Mackie?” she asked Claire.
“Around here somewhere,” Claire said. “Why?”
“No reason,” Delia said with a smile.
“How’s Scott’s mom?”
“Not good,” Delia said.
“I’m going to take them some dinner.”
The phone rang and Claire answered. After she hung up Delia asked her who it was.
“Denise,” Claire said. “She asked if I would continue to run the shop while she’s on maternity leave.”
“And?” Delia asked.
“I said I would,” Claire said. “I’m not doing anything else, so why not?”
“Why not, indeed,” her mother said, and gave her a hug. “I think that’s wonderful.”
“I’ve got to go clothes shopping,” Claire said. “I’m about to wear out these jeans.”
“I’d like to have my shoes back,” Delia said.
“I have come to really appreciate these shoes,” Claire said. “I may have to get some, myself.”
Hannah came in the front door.
“Has anyone seen my son?” she asked. “My mother just called to say he’s run off with that pack of wild dogs that’s raising him.”
Delia pointed at the back door.
Hannah went outside and Delia began assembling ingredients for dinner.
Maggie came in through the front door.
“Oh, my Lord, that sister,” she said. “What a selfish witch.”
“Now, now,” Delia said. “Everyone grieves in a different way.”
“I think Scott’s having some sort of religious experience,” Maggie said. “He’s talking like a TV preacher.”
“Maybe,” Delia said, “this is strengthening his faith.”
“Or he’s lost his mind,” Maggie said. “I don’t know if I can handle four sermons a day from now on.”
“It will pass,” Delia said. “If it makes him feel better right now I say let him do whatever he needs to.”
“I passed a kidney stone once,” Ian said. “I felt much better afterward.”
Maggie, Claire and Delia all looked at each other during a brief pause, each suppressing a smile. Claire reflected that although the fact that he had dementia certainly wasn’t funny, some of the things he said certainly were.
For the next several minutes Claire listened to Maggie carrying on about Scott’s family, and Delia admonishing her to be nicer, and Ian interjecting statements that didn’t make perfect sense. Dogs were barking out back and Hannah could be heard shouting at Sammy.
Claire felt as if she’d been home for months instead of only a week. Her life with Sloan was already receding into the past, and this life was becoming the real one, the one in which she belonged. She was looking forward to the weekend ahead of her; some shopping with her mother, some breakfasts, lunches and dinners with various family members. She’d like to go see her Uncle Fitz, and maybe call up some old friends.
She wanted to do something nice for Scott and his family. She needed to get her room in some sort of order; right now it was like sleeping in a hoarder’s nest. She would start working on her parents’ house, she thought, and maybe look for a place of her own nearby.
She thought to herself, ‘it’s so good to be home,’ but she didn’t dare say it out loud for fear Maggie would pretend to throw up.
Hannah came back inside and said, “Hey, Claire, do you know where your dog is?”
“She’s probably back in the bedroom, sleeping,” Claire said. “Why?”
“Where’s my little darlin’?” Ian asked Claire. “Where’s Papaw’s angel?”
Claire realized she’d lost track of Mackie Pea and didn’t know where she was. She didn’t want to agitate her father if Mackie had run off, so she said, “You’ve worn her out, Dad; she’s probably taking a nap.”
Claire searched and called for her, but Mackie Pea was not in the house. Claire called Skip and Skip’s mom, but neither of them had seen her. Much to Claire’s surprise, they didn’t seem too awfully worried.
“She’ll show up when she’s hungry,” Skip’s mother said. “They always do.”
“She’s probably chasing shrews down by the river,” Skip said. “She’ll find her way home eventually.”
Claire tried not to worry, but she kept picturing Mackie Pea wandering around lost and afraid in her little pink and purple coat. There were so many dangers for a small dog not used to living in such a rural environment. Possums and raccoons could be terribly mean, not to mention there were actual bears in the woods beyond town. Some people shot strays rather than rescue them. What if Mackie chased someone’s chickens and they shot at her?
The more her worried thoughts raced the more panicked she felt. Should she leave and go look for her or wait here for her to come home?
Hannah tapped on the back door window and Claire opened the door.
“Come out here,” Hannah said through the screen door.
Claire went out the back door onto the porch. Maggie and her parents followed.
“It’s freezing out here,” Claire said.
Sammy was sitting on the porch steps, laughing and clapping.
“What’s going on?” Claire said.
“Watch,” Hannah said.
Hannah’s dogs Jax and Wally streaked across the yard, followed by Mackie Pea in her pink and purple coat, now caked with mud. Wally had something in his mouth that Jax was trying to take away from him, and they ended up in a tug of war with whatever it was, growling and snarling at each other.
Jax the Siberian Husky was no match for Wally the Border Collie; Wally could dart, double back, and turn on a dime. Mackie Pea kept trying to get a grip on whatever it was they were fighting over but she couldn’t keep up with the bigger dogs. Jax and Wally completely ignored her, but she seemed to be having the time of her life.
Claire tried to picture the pampered, spoiled princess she’d brought to Rose Hill a week ago, with her expensive organic grain-free dog food and Louis Vuitton pet carrier. It was hard to believe this could be the same dog, now covered in filth and jumping, snapping, and rolling in the grass with the big boys.
“What is it they’re fighting over?” Claire asked.
“Me’s bad guy belt,” Sammy said.
Claire sighed as she recognized what was left of her baby blue Birkin bag accessory, the one she’d traded for Tuppy’s book.
“Tell me again how much that fancy purse set you back,” Hannah said, and Claire smacked her lightly on the arm.
“I think Mackie’s going to fit in very well,” Delia said as she put her arm around Claire. “Just like you.”
Next door Ed Harrison and Tommy walked outside to watch the dogs.
“There’s Liam,” Ian said, and waved merrily at the young boy, who waved back.
“Come home for dinner,” Ian shouted.
Delia gripped Claire’s hand as Hannah said, “That’s Tommy, Uncle Ian.”
“Tommy?” Ian said. “I don’t know any Tommy. I know my own son when I see him. Call him home, Delia. He needs to eat his dinner before soccer practice.”
“He’s going to eat with Bonnie’s boys,” Delia said as she took him by the arm and led him back into the house. “You know how he likes her cooking.”
“She’s mean, though,” Ian said as they went back in the house. “Mean as a striped snake.”
“That must be so awful, Claire,” Maggie said. “I’m so sorry.”
“Poor Tommy,” Claire said. “This morning Dad knew who he was.”
“Tommy just goes along with it,” Hannah said. “He doesn’t mind.”
“He must be a nice kid,” Claire said.
“He is,” Maggie said. “His mother’s nice, too.”
“What’s that story?” Claire said. “And why isn’t Mom working for Ava at the B&B anymore? And why did Lily sell her farm and move? I need to be brought up to speed, girls.”
Hannah covered up Sammy’s ears and said, “Not now.”
“Bad words,” Sammy said. “Gimme you’s dollars.”
“I want to hear more about you skinny-dipping with Scott Gordon,” Hannah said, and then let go of Sammy’s ears.
“Me, too,” said Maggie. “I’m going to require a much more detailed version of that incident than w
hat I’ve received so far.”
Ed called out “see you later,” and he and Tommy went back in his house.
“Give me the scoop on Ed and the waitress first,” Claire said.
“It was doomed from the start,” Maggie said. “They had nothing in common.”
“Ed’s single now,” Hannah said. “I could fix that up for you.”
“Don’t let her do it,” Maggie said. “She’s a horrible matchmaker.”
“I may have failed with you and Scott,” Hannah said, “but otherwise I’m actually quite successful.”
“I’m pretty good myself,” Claire said, with a sly glance at Maggie, who then pinched her.
“Look,” Hannah said, “it’s snowing.”
Sure enough, small flakes of snow were falling, carried sideways by a brisk wind.
“But it’s April,” Claire said.
“Welcome back to Rose Hill,” Maggie said. “We have eight months of winter here, remember?”
“I better go turn in my rental car before it gets bad,” Claire said. “Will you guys follow me to Pendleton and then bring me home?”
“Sure,” Hannah said.
“Can we’s go to Megamart?” Sammy asked hopefully.
“Sure,” Claire said.
“I wants a monster truck,” Sammy said. “A big one!”
“If you’re very, very good,” Claire said.
“Careful,” Hannah said. “That’s a very slippery slope.”
“I need a new gun,” Sammy said. “They’s never lets me plays with guns.”
“No way,” Claire said. “Just a truck, if you’re good.”
“And a video,” Sammy said, “and bubbles and candy and a magic trick and a dinosaur and a fish.”
“He knows exactly where those fish are and can fit several in the front pouch of his long johns,” Hannah said. “He also picks pockets, so don’t bring any cash with you.”
“I can handle it,” Claire said.
“Ha,” said Maggie. “This I want to see.”
“Ask him about riding in the shopping cart,” Hannah said.
“Nooooooooo!” Sammy whined. “I no riding in the buggy!”
“Maybe we’ll just drive through somewhere and get a kid’s meal,” Claire said. “There’s always a toy in there.”
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