by Nancy Naigle
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“Oh, when you see what it is, you’ll know I had to. You’re going to love it.”
They walked back to the fellowship hall and filled plates with homemade goodies before sitting at one of the tables with a crowd of friends gathered together to celebrate.
Aunt Milly rushed toward them with her camera. “There you two are. I need pictures.”
Pearl tucked a raw broccoli floret behind her ear and leaned in with a huge smile.
Chapter Two
Nearly two weeks after Pearl’s surprise party, Jill zigzagged through the ballroom of the Harbour Lady Hotel. The elite of Savannah filled the grand room. Guests posed in their finest attire, mingling and one-upping each other with fat donations to the Kase Foundation.
Jill’s pride swelled in awe of the funds she’d helped raise.
This ought to ruin the devil’s day.
Genuine or for show, it didn’t really matter because their donations would all go to a good cause. The special camps the Kase Foundation funded were designed to position youth for great things. What better way to invest in the future than through the children? Planning this fundraiser had taken a year of long hours, but tonight the late nights and early mornings were paying off in dollars—big dollars—that far exceeded the Foundation’s goals to fund youth camps.
Tonight’s event was a heck of a lot bigger than any Ruritan Club BBQ she’d helped out with back in Virginia, but the same strategy had worked. Even the video montage was a big hit with this hoity-toity bunch of Savannah socialites. Seeing themselves on the screen, larger than life, fed their hungry egos and translated into an extra few digits in donations.
“How’s the best fundraiser the Kase Foundation has ever had?” Bradley had stepped up behind her and whispered into her ear.
His breath tickled her neck. “You’re not biased, are you?” Jill leaned against him and scanned the room. “Can you believe this night?”
“You’ve exceeded my every hope.” He spun her around to face him, then swept her into the crowd of dancing couples. “Tonight is perfect,” he said, never breaking frame. “You are perfect. I couldn’t have done this without you.”
Her insides swirled in time with the fine layers of her gown that swept her ankles with each turn. She’d never felt so elegant or so proud.
“Still right on schedule, too,” Jill said. Bradley would announce the silent auction winners next—the finale. Then, they’d call it a night. “I’m glad we’re sharing this special moment.”
“Oh, it’s not over yet,” he said.
Excitement flickered in her belly. He’s going to propose. Tonight. She took in a deep breath to steady her trembling legs and help her keep pace with Bradley’s smooth movements.
Bradley gave a nod of recognition to a tall man standing to the side of the dance floor. “Duty calls. I’ll be back.” He dropped a kiss in the nook of Jill’s bare neck, and then he was gone—swept into the sea of black suits.
Jill accepted a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and eased into a seat at a corner table. Her work for the night was done. Someone else was in charge of the closing tasks.
She smoothed her gown and lifted the glass to her lips. The bubbles tickled her nose, but the cool liquid relaxed her. Jill clutched the black diamond marquise pendant on her necklace and slid it back and forth against its chain. The habit had broken more than its fair share of necklaces over the years, but the zipping sound had a soothing effect on her when she was in a crowd.
Pearls comments about marrying Bradley played in her mind.
She scanned the room for Bradley. His height made him easy to spot, unlike her. She could get lost in a room of junior high students. Waving, she caught his attention, then tapped her wrist indicating it was time to close the event.
Bradley acknowledged her with a quick nod, then took the stage. His black tuxedo set off his soft blonde hair and tan. He was easy on the eyes, but it was his commitment to the Kase Foundation that attracted her the most.
Guests returned to their tables and the room hushed as Bradley announced the winning bids.
Jill’s phone vibrated, sending her silk clutch buzzing across the table. Her cheeks flushed as she swept her purse to her lap. She took refuge through the burgundy drapes that hung just behind her to answer the call.
She cupped her hand over the phone. “Hello?”
“Hey, I didn’t want you to be startled when you got here—”
“You have the wrong number,” Jill said with quiet emphasis.
“Jill? Wait.”
The sound of her name caused her body to stiffen. She lifted the phone back to ear. “Who is this?”
“It’s Garrett.”
His invasion of this perfect evening stung. “How did you get this number?”
“From Pearl’s phone index.”
“I can’t talk to you right now.” Or ever.
“Someone broke into Pearl’s house.”
“What?” Applause came from the ballroom. Jill turned her back to the noise and pressed the phone closer to her ear. “Is she alright?”
“They broke the window next to the door. I boarded it up.”
“Is she okay?”
“Who?” He paused. “Oh...uh...”
Garrett’s pause set off her internal alarms. “What do you mean who? Is my grandmother alright?”
There was silence on the line.
“Are you there?” Her voice hardened.
He cleared his throat. “Yeah. I’m here. You don’t know?”
“Don’t know what?”
“Milly said she talked to Bradley early this afternoon. You...”
The champagne churned in her stomach. “You’re not making sense. Why would Milly talk to Bradley?”
“I don’t know how to say this.” Garrett spoke in an odd, yet gentle tone. “Pearl...she passed away. She’s gone, Jill.”
The sounds of the party vanished.
“I thought you knew. Bradley told Milly he’d tell you.”
Jill lowered the phone and clutched it to her chest. She swept the drapes back. Bradley stood at the podium, thanking everyone for coming. He made eye contact with her and flashed a smile as if things couldn’t be better.
How could he?
It was like the oxygen had just evacuated her space. Not Pearl. She turned away from the curtain, and lifted the phone to her ear. “No. She can’t...”
“I can’t believe it either, and I can’t believe he didn’t tell you.”
“No. He was...” What? Too busy? Forgetful? Heartless? There was no excuse. “How? When?”
“I’m so sorry you’re hearing the news this way.”
“Me too,” she mouthed the words, but nothing came out.
“Milly found her.” Garrett’s voice cracked.
He loved Pearl, too. Who didn’t?
“She went in her sleep.”
Was that supposed to make it easier?
Garrett broke the silence that hung between them on the line. “The Sheriff thinks the break-in was probably just kids. I don’t think anything’s missing.”
She couldn’t respond.
“I only called because I didn’t want you to freak out when you got here, or make matters worse.”
How could it be worse? Pearl’s gone and someone broke into our house. “Why would anyone do that?” She leaned against the wall to steady herself. “It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters since Pearl is...” She swallowed hard. “I’m on my way.”
“I’ll let Milly know.”
“Tell her I’ll call.” Jill’s heart had crumbled into as many pieces as the number of beads and sequins that adorned her dress tonight.
Bradley’s voice vibrated above the crowd, thanking guests, moving her way. He had never been so thoughtless. She’d like to burst out there and demand an explanation, but she knew it wasn’t the time or place for that. She slipped out of her strappy heels and ran out the rear exit.
When s
he reached her car, she tossed her shoes into the passenger seat, jumped behind the wheel, and sped away. No matter how loud she cranked up the radio, the volume couldn’t drown out the news replaying in her head.
Pearl’s gone. Gone. Gone.
Just a year ago, it had been Bradley’s voice that soothed her when Garrett had broken her heart. Now, Bradley had let her down, too.
Could he have thought this fundraiser was more important than Pearl? His screwed up family relations are no excuse. He knows what Pearl means to me. She’s the only family I have.
Had.
Jill drove right past the driveway of the house she shared with Bradley. She backed up and turned into the driveway. Her hands shook as she tugged the keys from the ignition.
Hiccup.
Stress had a way of bringing on the hiccups. Always had. She took in a deep breath and held it.
Hiccup.
That never works, she thought and exhaled loudly.
At least the hiccups hadn’t given her away at the hall. She had no desire to discuss this with Bradley yet.
She hurried into the house, paused at the staircase and listened.
Nothing. Annie must be out for the evening.
At least that was going her way. She and Annie, Bradley’s housekeeper, hadn’t seen eye-to-eye since the first day Jill set foot in this house. That girl didn’t have one southern dish in her recipe box or a hospitable bone in her body. But Bradley was nothing if not loyal to those that stuck by him, and she’d been with him for seven years. So, microwavin’ Annie was here to stay.
Hiking up the skirt of her gown, Jill took the stairs two at a time in her bare feet. The smell of Bradley’s aftershave still hung in the air. She dashed into the bedroom, but paused at the sight of her image in the full-length mirror. There was no argument that her black gown was beautiful. But Pearl had always reserved black for funerals, so she had, too.
Until tonight.
When Bradley had surprised her with the fancy one-of-a-kind gown this morning, she’d had a bad feeling.
Always trust your intuition.
Jill pulled the bad karma dress over her head and slung it across the room.
Her practical side forced her to cross the room, pick up the high-dollar wad off the floor, and smooth it before hanging it properly on a padded hanger on the back of the bathroom door.
Hiccup.
The beads on the designer dress sparkled, taunting her. She’d probably been slipping into it when Pearl took her last breath.
She stepped into the adjoining closet and grabbed another hanger and tippy-toed to hook the handle of her suitcase on the top shelf of the closet. The hot pink luggage fell to the floor in front of her. A Christmas gift from Bradley, the bright and cheery patterned suitcase had been perfect. There wasn’t anything bright or cheerful about today though. She pulled down Bradley’s smaller black suitcase instead, catching it mid-air.
Jill heaved the bag across the bed, tossed in the essentials, and then pulled the zipper closed. After a quick change into jeans and an old Virginia Tech t-shirt, she headed downstairs. The suitcase slammed against each step. It wasn’t heavy. It just somehow felt liberating to do that to spite Bradley at the moment.
Following one good hiccup, the suitcase slipped from her hand, hit the next step at an angle, and tumbled the rest of the way down. After taking the last few steps, she stood in the foyer, contemplating. She ripped a sheet of paper from the notepad on the hall table and held the pen between her clenched fingers, waiting for something to come to her. Then she wrote:
You knew.
How could you not tell me?
Jill slid the paper next to the phone. She winced when she realized she’d written in such a fury that the words gouged the fine wooden table. It was a small price for him to pay for what he’d done.
With only one way in or out of the neighborhood, she prayed she’d get out of there before Bradley showed up. She headed to the car, tossed her suitcase in the back, and then accelerated down the driveway.
If he shows up now, he’ll find out what an all out southern hissy fit looks like. And it ain’t gonna’ be pretty.
When Jill got to the I-95 ramp she dialed Aunt Milly.
“Aunt Milly, it’s me.” Her chin quivered. “I talked to Garrett. I still can’t believe Pearl’s gone.”
“I’d talked to her not an hour before. We were going to go to the market. Y’know, like we always do.”
Milly’s voice lacked its usual energy. “She said she didn’t need anything, but I needed some milk and fruit. Anyway, Doc said she must’ve taken one of her naps, and never woke up. It’s the way she would have wanted it.”
Jill’s fingers tingled from squeezing the steering wheel so tight. “I was going to wait until morning to call, but I needed to hear your voice. I’m on my way now.” Despite the sadness in Aunt Milly’s voice, her slow southern drawl made Jill ache for home even more.
“Don’t you rush, dear. It’s the middle of the night, for goodness sake. You know how Pearl was about details. She had everything already planned and I’ve got the whole town to help me if I need it.”
“No surprise there.” Pearl was the queen of listing and planning. That’s where Jill had picked up her skills. “But I couldn’t ask you to do all that.”
“Sweetie, at my age, I could whip together a good funeral with my eyes closed.”
Jill choked back tears. Milly wasn’t actually her aunt, but rather Pearl’s best friend and like part of the family for as far back as Jill could remember. Not that it mattered. Pearl had always said that those you’d share a family recipe or church bulletin with proved a family connection better than any swanky, scientific DNA test. Jill turned her attention back to Milly who was already giving her the what-for for not listening.
“You hearin’ me? Now, you pull yourself together. I’ll see you soon enough. And I already called Carolanne. She’s on her way.”
“Milly. Thank you. You’ve thought of everything.” Jill and Carolanne had been best friends since grade school. Carolanne practiced law in New York City now, but their friendship withstood time and distance.
“Quit worrying child,” Milly said.
“Yes ma’am. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“I wish you wouldn’t insist on driving in the middle of the night. You’re just like Pearl, you know. Hardheaded. So, I know there’s no use me tryin’ to talk you into goin’ back and puttin’ your head down on a pillow until daybreak. Be careful, dear.”
“I will. I’ll touch base with you in the morning.” Jill closed the phone, then traced her top lip with her fingers. Whenever she cried her lips swelled up like Angelina Jolie’s, only not in a pretty way. Jill’s hiccups finally subsided.
Her tires had already clipped against the reflectors on the interstate twice, alerting her she was drifting. She searched for a radio station to help keep her mind from wandering.
I’m so sorry I wasn’t there, Pearl.
Chapter Three
Traffic was sparse on the dark interstate, and no matter how loud Jill turned up the talk radio host, the little voices in her head won out.
Memories weighed heavy on her heart and the gas pedal, too. She made the nearly six-hour drive from Savannah to Adams Grove in just over five. Bradley called several times, but she ignored each of his calls. Finally, she turned off the phone. She’d deal with him later.
At exactly three-thirty in the morning, Jill took the exit off I-95 and turned down Main Street. The switch from interstate to twenty-five mph felt like a crawl. Usually, she took the back way home, but tonight she needed to feel close to Adams Grove.
Someone had finally persuaded the town council to approve the purchase of pole banners to display down Main Street. The bannerscape of teal flags touted the town’s pride in its history.
Nice.
Floral & Hardy, the flower shop Teddy Hardy had opened right out of high school, had twinkle lights in the window. In the morning, she’d call Teddy and
get him to make something special for Pearl.
Daisies for sure. Every type and color.
Jill’s eyes misted.
The old pharmacy had a new sign. Sadly, Parker’s Family Pharmacy was now a national chain.
Nightlights shone through the upstairs apartment windows over several storefronts. Those residents gave Main Street life, even though the businesses all flipped their signs from open to closed by six o’clock each evening, and stayed closed on Sundays.
Just past the last shop, the street lights ended and the road became inky black.
Jill’s blinker counted off the seconds to the lane that led to the house she’d grown up in. The tall pines were a welcome sight. Dirt kicked up behind the car into a rooster tail that glowed hazy red in her brake lights.
Tree branches hung across the path like a tunnel. Halfway to the house she slowed to a stop, put the car in park, and lowered the windows. The humid night air rushed in. In a matter of seconds, her skin became sticky. The melodic hum from the wood’s creatures filled the night. Closing her eyes, she lost herself in the deafening country quiet. The air-conditioner dried her tears as quickly as they fell.
Unable to put it off any longer, she drove the rest of the way to the house. Apart from the boarded up window next to the front door, it looked like home. The flowerbeds had Pearl’s special touch. No color theme, but rather a splash of every color imaginable. Pearl was known for spending days on end planting to achieve just the right level of chaos, and somehow the crazy mix of colors always ended up blending into something beautiful.
Jill stepped on the long country porch and reached for the hide-a-key from the window box of geraniums that hung from the rail. The key was right where it had always been. She let herself in, set her bag down just inside, then flipped on the lights.
“My God.” Jill took two steps back as if the mess might jump up and tug her into the disorder. Garrett was right. Someone had had a field day tossing the place. A tumble of confusing thoughts assailed her and she wasn’t sure which would win out. The sadness of her loss, or the anger that someone had invaded her childhood home.
