Bree couldn’t believe how little Ann thought of Linda…and of her. “What do you think I am, a gold mine?”
“Oh yes. The richest vein I’ve ever discovered. And I certainly don’t intend to let anyone else put a shaft in you, especially my dear little sister.”
Was she finally beginning to see behind the screen Ann had always used to project herself as a great and mighty Oz? “Good talking to you, Ann,” Bree said, forcing herself to be civil. “Look, I promised my mother I’d help her finish something we started last week and need to go. See you around.”
“But—”
Bree hung up before Ann exposed her unattractive side more fully. Even Bree liked to have a few illusions. If she didn’t, she’d probably have to give up on people altogether and hibernate for the rest of her life.
*
“You haven’t worked much on our puzzle, have you, Sarah?” Bree asked as they sat at the small folding table in the lounge area at Silverado where they’d left their puzzle spread out, half finished.
“Actually, I’ve been too busy. Remember that old 1918 telephone book we donated to the Houston Historical Society?”
“Yeah. I was glad we found a home for it.”
“The members wrote a big article featuring it and asked me to pose for a picture to accompany it. That was yesterday’s adventure.”
“So that’s why you asked me to buy you a new silk blouse and had your hair done.”
Sarah smiled like the cat that got the cream.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I’m sorry for being greedy, but I wanted to keep it all to myself awhile. It’s not everyday I’m involved in something like this anymore.”
“You certainly kept your secret well.”
“I’m not sure how. I couldn’t eat or sleep after they told me about it. And posing for that picture yesterday almost wore me out. But I had a good night’s sleep, and now I’m ready to settle down with our puzzle.”
“I’m proud of you. You’ve always been important, not only to me but to everyone who knows you.”
Sarah reddened and reached for a puzzle piece. “Thank you. That means a lot.” She finally met Bree’s gaze. “I know I’ve been silly, getting so excited over something that must seem trivial to you.” She sighed with what sounded like contentment. “But it’s nice to still feel a part of the mainstream, if you know what I mean. Out here, it’s too easy to feel shuffled to one side, like we don’t have anything left to contribute to anybody.”
They sat in silence, Bree absorbing Sarah’s uncharacteristically intimate confession.
“Guess who came home early?” Bree finally said.
“Came home from where?”
“From her vacation.”
“I don’t know anyone who’s been on vacation.”
“Okay, from her honeymoon. I just gave away my surprise.”
“You mean Ann?” Sarah looked up with a glint in her eyes.
“Yes.”
“So, what’s her last name now? I can’t keep up.”
“The same as when she left town last week.”
“You mean she didn’t go through with it? What happened? And how did you find out?”
“She just called me not an hour ago, complaining of being bored with Hawaii and with Carl. That’s his name, I just found out.”
“Bored in Hawaii?” Sarah lifted a brow. “She ought to try living out here. We have to struggle to keep our life interesting.”
Bree glanced around the small open area, furnished with various sizes of tables and chairs. Residents often gathered here to work jigsaw puzzles. After a lost-looking man had slowly pushed his walker past them and disappeared down the hall, Sarah said, “Ann always expected everyone else to entertain her, didn’t she? Frankly, I never understood why you were so crazy about her. Still are, aren’t you?” She seemed to look right through Bree.
“I can’t believe you just said that.”
Sarah shrugged. “I’m finally learning that sometimes it’s best to just state what you think and not worry about the fallout.”
So that’s why Sarah had acted so different lately. Bree decided to see how open she’d be. “Since we’re on the subject, what do you know about the relationship between Ann and Linda?”
“Why do you ask?” Sarah assumed her old evasive expression. Their unfiltered conversation certainly hadn’t lasted long.
Bree brushed her bangs back and hoped she appeared nonchalant. “After spending so much time with Linda, I’m beginning to see her side of things. I’ve always thought of her as just Ann’s annoying little sister.”
Sarah frowned. “So Ann considered her annoying? Hmm.” She didn’t speak for several seconds. “That doesn’t surprise me.” She paused again. “And her dad probably had a hand in that too.”
“Her dad?” Where had that come from? What was her mother talking about? “Why would he take Ann’s side and not Linda’s? I thought parents usually spoiled the youngest child.”
“Not always. Not when she’s not…”
“Not what? What do you mean?”
Sarah pressed her hand over her mouth, a cautious expression shuttering her eyes. But Bree held her gaze and slowly pulled the hand away. “You can tell me. You’ve kept whatever secret you’ve held back long enough, don’t you think?”
Sarah grasped one of her own hands with the other and massaged the base of her fingers. Finally, she blew out a long breath. “You’re right. I don’t want to die knowing something that might make a difference to others—especially someone as sweet and caring as Linda.”
“You’re talking in riddles. You’re not going to die anytime soon. But won’t you tell me what you know now?”
Sarah sighed and sat back in her chair. “I hope Linda’s mother, God rest her soul, will forgive me.” She took another deep breath. “But I need to get this off my chest. And you and Linda need to know what I’m about to say.” She glanced around the area as if she saw strangers lurking behind the potted plants. “Let’s go back to my room so we can have some privacy.”
As Bree walked slowly down the hall beside Sarah and her red walker, she glanced at the woman who’d once seemed so aloof and independent.
“Here we go,” Bree said as she pushed the door open and waited for Sarah to sit down in her recliner. Bree perched on the only other chair in the small living area. Did Sarah really know something about Linda’s mother, or was she fabricating it to keep herself from being bored?
Sarah stared at her as if she could read her mind. “I know what you’re thinking, Breanna Principal. I can see it on your face. But what I’m about to tell you is as true and as real as that television set or that microwave over there.”
“Okay. I’m listening. And no one can overhear us in here.”
“You won’t tell anyone what I’ve said unless you truly believe it’d help them have a better life?” Sarah fixed her with a glare she recalled from childhood.
“No. I’ll be as careful and considerate as you’ve been all these years.” Bree had no idea what she was agreeing to, but she wanted to find out what Sarah had to say.
“I met two women at an art exhibit in Dallas during the war. They’d moved to France just after World War I, and their son Patrick still lived there. Brett and I stayed with him and his French wife and son when I studied painting in Paris during the summer of 1948.”
“I remember. I was just three, but I’ll never forget how you and he stayed gone what seemed like forever. I don’t know which of you I missed most.”
“I missed you too and swore I’d never leave you again for that long.”
Bree felt a stab of pain. “Why did you take Brett and not me?”
Her mother looked apologetic yet firm. “He always needed me more than you did, and your father and Carolyn’s parents took good care of you.” She rubbed her cheek. “I couldn’t leave two babies with him though.”
“I always envied Brett. Sometimes I think that’s why I chose a profession that
involved so much travel.”
“Perhaps. I’m sorry.”
“Me too, though now I’m glad you could do something you loved so much.” Bree paused. “But what does your summer in Paris have to do with Linda?”
“I know you think I’m rambling, but you need a little background so you can understand what I’m about to tell you.”
Bree let out a huge sigh. What had she done to deserve a mother who considered genealogy as important as the three Rs?
“The next year, Patrick came to Dallas to visit his mother Molly and her partner Jaq. He stayed with us several weeks too.”
“Now I remember him.” Bree got up and opened a Diet Coke, then poured it into a glass of ice. “Tall, red hair getting a little gray by then. And so nice.” She took a sip. “Funny. I’d forgotten all about him being here.”
“He wanted to see an old farm down at New Hope, where he lived as a boy, so we all drove out there one day.” Sarah gazed over at the sliding glass door and into the courtyard. “We visited his grandmother’s grave in the community cemetery, and his dad’s too. He seemed quite emotional.”
Bree began to calm down and enjoy Sarah’s reminiscences. But what was her point?
“Patrick was delightful—well educated and the perfect guest.” She looked wistful.
“Did he enjoy his visit? I don’t remember much about it.”
Sarah smiled. “Evidently, he did. I had no idea how he occupied himself when he wasn’t at the house with us, but a few months after he left, I found out.”
Someone knocked on the door, and a woman who lived down the hall came in. “Ready, Sarah?”
Her mother glanced up at the clock. “Gracious. The time’s flown.” She lowered the leg rest on her recliner. “Be ready in a minute.” Sarah jumped up as fast as she could manage. “I need to go, or I’ll miss supper. Come back in the morning and I’ll finish my story.”
“Are you serious? Aren’t you almost through?”
“I’ve waited this long and kept this secret so close, I need to hold it another day. See you tomorrow.”
Bree got up, disappointed, and waited until Sarah disappeared down the long corridor toward the dining room.
As she meandered out to her car, her mind whirled with the events of the day—her feelings for Ann and Linda, and now her mother’s strange behavior. What was Sarah being so mysterious about, and why?
Chapter Sixteen
Linda crouched in her backyard, digging up some amaryllis whose green, swordlike tops had begun to turn yellowish-brown. She’d wanted to divide them and plant them in another flower bed for several years now, but she always got too busy or forgot to dig them up at the right time.
She’d just stuck her trowel deep into the rich soil to dig a trench, when her cell phone rang. She should have left the noisy thing inside, but she never knew when a grandchild might need a ride somewhere or she might have to babysit.
She jerked off her filthy glove and picked up her phone. Her grandbabies would be grown before she knew it, and she wanted to enjoy every minute of their childhood. “Hello.”
“Hey, Linda. Guess what? I’m home early.”
“What’s going on, Ann?” Linda sat on the ground, its damp coolness immediately seeping through her overalls.
“Oh, I decided to postpone getting married and didn’t see much point in staying any longer.”
Linda reached for a nearby bottle of water and took a sip. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out. Like I told you Sunday, everything’s been fine here and at your place.”
“Yeah, well, thanks for looking after things. What have you been up to, besides going to that silly old syrup festival?”
Linda struggled up from the wet ground and walked over to a chair near the pool. “Nothing different.” She sat and sighed with relief. “Though I am taking Bree to meet some people in Tyler tomorrow afternoon. She doesn’t have much to do except visit her mother every day. She’d lost touch with everybody but Carolyn, so it’s almost like she’s new in town.”
“You’re just being a Good Samaritan, eh?” Ann’s tone was a little more acid than usual, probably because her plans hadn’t worked out in Hawaii.
“Oh, I like Bree, a lot. But I don’t have that much to offer her. She’s used to a lot more excitement.”
Ann’s laugh sounded rather brittle. “Well, you’re in luck. Don’t go out of your way to entertain her anymore. I’ll take over.” Her tone had turned demanding. “After all, she was always my friend, not yours.”
Linda stood and brushed off the back of her overalls. “Thanks for your concern, but I don’t intend to cancel our plans.” Sometimes Ann tried to push her just a little too far. “Surely Bree has time for both of us.”
“We’ll see.” Ann sounded surprised yet determined. “Well, I don’t want to keep you any longer. I’m sure you have lots of exciting things to do. ’Bye now.”
Linda clicked off her phone and stared at it. What had all that been about? She shrugged and stretched her back, then walked over to her flower bed and picked up her trowel again. She wished Ann were still in Hawaii, happily married.
*
Linda had managed to dig up all her amaryllis and now sat on the concrete pool deck with the bulbs spread out in front of her. Her phone rang again.
“Hello.” She answered more brusquely than usual. Her conversation with Ann had left a sour taste in her mouth, like biting into a plum that had gone bad.
“Hi, Granny. What’s wrong?” It was Riley.
The sour taste in Linda’s mouth turned sweet. “Oh, baby. Sorry I sounded grouchy. I’m a little tired. What’s going on?”
“I just got home from school and wanted to say hi. Can I come over?”
“Of course. You mean right now? Is anything wrong?”
“No, not really.” Riley sounded upset. “I’ve been missing you.”
“I’ll be right there. In fact, I need you to help me with something. I’m glad you called. Be sure to wear some old clothes.”
“Good. See you soon. Love you.”
“Love you too.” Linda clicked off her phone, jumped up, and walked into the house to grab her car keys. Riley was just the person she needed to see.
*
Wearing a faded pair of jeans and an orange-checked flannel shirt, Riley sat on a low plastic stool and held out an amaryllis bulb. “What are we supposed to do with this, Granny?”
Linda handed her the water hose and turned it on slightly. “We’ll rinse off all the dirt first. And be sure not to pull any roots off.”
Riley sprayed the water carefully on the bulb. “Okay. It’s clean. Now what?”
“Turn it upside down and look at the bottom.” When Riley did as asked, Linda pointed. “See those little bulbs growing around there in a circle?”
“Yeah. Look at all of them.” Riley grinned.
“Those are all babies that grew from their momma.”
“Wow. That’s a lot. What do we do with them?”
“If we don’t take them off her, she’ll stop blooming.” Linda could relate, but she’d always tried to keep her work and family responsibilities light enough that she could enjoy them instead of feeling overburdened. She wanted to teach Riley how to do the same with her life. “I want you to be really careful and break each one of them off. You can put them in a pile right over here.”
“Won’t that hurt them?”
She chuckled to herself. Riley had always been softhearted. “I’m not sure how much plants feel.” She kept her tone firm. “But even if it does hurt a little, in the long run the babies will have a chance to grow and be beautiful flowers just like their momma.”
“Or their granny?” Riley carefully snapped a small bulb from the root plate.
“Thanks, sweetheart.” Most of Linda’s pique at Ann slipped away. “We call the little bulbs clones. They’ll look exactly like their momma, who looked exactly like her momma, so you’re right. They’ll be identical to their grandmother.”
Riley smile
d proudly. “Oh, goody. I want to be just like you when I grow up.”
Linda swelled like a wilted leaf on a hydrangea bush just watered after a drought. “You will, Riley. And I hope you’ll be even better than I am.”
After they separated the amaryllis bulbs, Linda said, “Now we need to settle these into their new homes so they can start growing.” Riley was one of the best results of her marriage.
“Where should we put them, Granny?”
“See that flower bed?” She pointed. “It gets sun most of the morning but is in the shade all afternoon. That way the hottest sun of the day won’t scorch the flowers. You can help me carry them over there.”
She hoped Riley never got scorched the way she had—by a divorce and a beautiful sister who always got what she wanted. Linda’s earlier bitterness began to return.
As they started to dig holes in the rich, damp soil, Riley asked, “Won’t the babies be lonesome all by themselves?”
Again, Linda chuckled to herself. “Maybe at first, but they’ll get used to it.” Linda recalled her lonely months after her divorce when she’d thought her life had ended. “And then they’ll grow up and have beautiful flowers every year. They’ll hold their heads high.” Linda wished she could feel that way about herself right now. Why had Ann always made her feel so inadequate?
Riley eased a bulb into one of the holes they’d just dug. “Is this right?”
Linda spent some time inspecting it. “Don’t plant it too deep. Just let the top of its head peek out.” She made a minor adjustment, then smiled at Riley. “That’s perfect, sweetheart. Good job.”
Riley beamed and patted the dirt firmly around the bulb.
“After we finish,” Linda said, “we’ll spread some mulch over the bulbs, like a blanket. It’ll keep them warm all winter. And in the spring, around Easter or Mother’s Day, they’ll shoot right up and bloom as pretty as can be. Do you know what a lot of people call them?”
Riley screwed up her mouth as she concentrated on planting the next bulb just right. “No, Granny. What?”
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