by Karey White
“What about the home phone?” Wren asked.
“I’ve already called the phone company. They found several calls to and from an unlisted number.”
Wren read over the letter again. “It sounds like they knew each other pretty well.” She tried to remember anything that would tie her grandfather to this woman, Dot. She fingered the plane ticket. “Do you think they were secretly dating?”
Mom ran her hands over her face. “I don’t know.” She looked up and directed her next statement loudly to the ceiling, as if Gramps were upstairs. “I wouldn’t put it past him. Flirt.”
Wren almost smiled. Then sobered. “Mom, this is important. Like, lots-of-planning important.”
“I agree.”
“And this woman is going to be waiting at the airport, all excited. ‘Like Christmas Eve.’”
Her mother sighed and removed her glasses. “What do you want me to do?” She took the letter back. “The fact that my father may have a kept woman in Seattle isn’t sitting well with me.” A slow smile came to her face, and she laughed for the first time in days. “Or maybe it is. I don’t know.”
Wren finally smiled too. “We have to let her know.”
“Of course we do.” She nodded and put her glasses back on. “But how?”
A search with Gramps’ ancient PC for a Dot or Dorothy in Marysville, Washington, came up empty except for a seven-year old obituary for a Dorothy Fike. Wren guessed this was not the same woman. She looked again at the boarding passes. Maybe she could find out who had paid for the tickets. She picked up her phone and called the airport.
After the phone call, Wren returned to the kitchen. “Well, Gramps paid for the tickets. But it’s possible to take his place on the flight if we have a death certificate. They can work it through the bereavement—”
Mom looked up, wiping a tear. “What?”
“Oh, Mom.” Wren wrapped her arms around her mom’s shoulders.
Mom shook her head. “I’m fine. Who knew that reading his electricity bill would trigger more tears? What were you going to say?”
Wren hesitated. “Nothing. Just... trying to get hold of this woman before Wednesday looks impossible. I let the airline know, so when he doesn’t show and she goes to ask at the desk, they’ll tell her.”
Her mom winced.
Wren sat down. “The only other option is to take Gramps’ flight, meet the woman, and tell her in person.” She glanced at all the paper piles and shook her head. “But with all the funeral preparations and stuff . . .”
Her mom studied her thoughtfully. “It would be a friendly face, telling her gently what happened.”
Mom had been the one to find Gramps cold and unresponsive on the couch in their den. He’d come over to help Mom with some winter yard work. Wren would never forget her mother’s shock and immediate anguish.
“You could go,” Mom said.
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
Wren paused. “Because I can’t leave you right now.” The words tightened in her throat, her emotions swelling.
“Yes you can. Like you said, up one day, back the next. You meet this Dot, let her know what’s happened, take her to dinner, and come home.”
“But all the arrangements, all the legal stuff— I should be here for that, for you.”
Her mom reached across the table and swept a lock of Wren’s hair behind her ear. “I’m in good hands. But who will be there for her? Whoever she is, your grandpa made plans with her. What would he want us to do?”
Wren took a deep breath and let it out. “I’ll think about it.”
But she could already hear Gramps. Get out. Go see what you’re made of.
Chapter Two
Wren watched Seattle slowly spin beneath her as the plane descended. With every drop in altitude, her heart beat faster. Though she’d rehearsed in her head how she would find and greet this woman, Wren had no idea what to expect. She’d imagined every possibility, including a scene where the woman fainted. She hoped that didn’t happen.
Wren exited the plane with the other passengers and followed the signs to baggage claim. As they approached waiting families and friends, Wren slowed. She searched the crowd, suddenly feeling that this was a crazy idea and an overnight letter would have been just fine.
The other passengers grabbed their bags off the carousel, and the crowd thinned. A woman caught her eye, just coming in the sliding glass doors from outside. Wren’s heart pounded in her throat, but as another flight of passengers entered the baggage claim area, the woman smiled, waved, and approached a couple. Wren blew out a breath of frustration. This was ridiculous. What if Dot was waiting in her car in the pick-up lanes?
She glanced outside and remembered Gramps’ cell phone in her purse. It had two new texts.
Can’t wait to see you! Safe flight!
And the second:
Where the heck are ya?
Wren glanced around again. Her fingers shook as she typed in a message.
This is Billy’s granddaughter. I’m at the airport in baggage claim. Where are you?
She took a somewhat uncomfortable picture of herself, hit send, and waited. This is going to be a disaster.
“Ahem.”
Wren whipped around at the sound. A woman stood with her arms folded.
“You’re Billy’s granddaughter? You’re Wren, then, right? Where’s Billy?” She glanced around. “Is he using the men’s room?” She looked back to Wren, appearing more amused than mad. “Did he drag you along? He didn’t say a word.” She stuck her hand out. “Dot. Pleased to meet you. Billy’s told me a lot about you.”
Wren shook her hand. Dot wasn’t what she’d pictured in any of her scenarios. For one thing, she wasn’t as old. Short red hair— likely dyed— jeans, scarf, and a leather bomber jacket. Her eyes had a spark Wren liked. Dang. She could totally see Gramps with this woman.
“I’m sorry—” Wren began. And then her words stuck. Dot watched her, waiting. Wren swallowed and tried again. “I came because…”
The woman’s brow lifted as she waited for Wren to finish a sentence.
“Can we sit down somewhere, please?” Wren found some seating in a corner and gestured for Dot to follow her.
They both sat, and Dot watched her expectantly. Wren watched her fingers, interlocked tightly on her lap. The words she’d rehearsed all the way here were jumbled in her head, caged like the bingo balls at Palisade Methodist.
“He didn’t come,” Dot said. “He backed out. Why that cowardly son of a b—”
“No!” Wren’s protest was louder than she’d intended, making several people look their way.
Dot had stopped her name calling and waited with eyes open wide.
“Last Saturday... Gramps lay down for a nap after working hard in the yard. He didn’t wake up.” She met Dot’s gaze and the woman’s expression didn’t change. Then she grew blurry. “He just...” Wren tried to pull in a breath, but her emotions didn’t allow it. “He just... didn’t wake up.” Tears spilled over, and her dam of emotions broke in a gasping, wet display.
Great, Wren. Way to be there for Dot.
The woman reached over and patted her back as Wren pushed away tears and wiped her nose on the back of her hand.
“I’m sorry,” she blubbered. “We didn’t know how to reach you. All we had was your letter and a plane ticket. I couldn’t find you on the internet. I don’t even know your last name. Gramps died and had plans with you, and you were meeting him here, and I pictured you waiting and waiting and we couldn’t just... we couldn’t just...”
But she’d said it. Gramps died.
“Well,” was all Dot said.
She stood and took a few steps away. After a moment, she turned and put her hands on her hips. “Well… dammit.”
Wren lifted her brow and sniffled.
Dot paced a couple times, her head bowed. Then she halted. “Okay. Here’s what we’re going to do.” She looked at Wren. “Is that everything you’ve got?
”
Wren looked at her carry-on. “Yes.”
“Where were you staying tonight?”
“Holiday Inn Express.”
Dot gave a nod toward the restrooms. “Go get yourself cleaned up. Then you’re coming with me.”
Chapter Three
Dot navigated the city onramps and freeways as Wren gripped the seatbelt across her chest. They’d said nothing for the first twenty minutes, and if silence helped Dot concentrate on the road, that was fine with Wren. Seattle traffic was nothing like Palisade or even Grand Junction, and with all of the overpasses, lane switching, and winding onramps, Wren became completely disoriented.
It suddenly occurred to her that she’d gotten into a car with a perfect stranger in a strange city. She clung to the fact that Gramps had bought the plane ticket and apparently knew this woman.
She pulled out her phone. “I need to call home.”
“That would be wise.”
When her mom answered, she sounded relieved. “Wren, honey, how’s it going? Did you find her?”
“Yeah, sorry I didn’t call earlier. I was distracted.”
“That’s okay, you’re calling me now. Well?”
“Well...” Wren glanced at the woman next to her. “I found Dot.”
“How did she take the news? What was she like?”
“Actually, she’s right here. We’re in her car.”
“Going to dinner?”
“Uhh...” She put her hand over the mic and turned to Dot. “Where are we going?”
“My grandson’s place, where I live. It’s over in Marysville.”
Wren turned back to the phone. “We’re going to her house in Marysville.”
Her mom dropped her voice to a whisper. “What’s she like?”
“Whispering’s not going to help, Mom. She seems... good. I took the news harder than she did.”
Dot pressed her lips together and nodded.
“Rough, huh? But was going the right thing to do?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. We can talk more later. Try to have a nice time. Be safe.”
Wren got off the phone and scrambled to think of something to say. She’d never been a natural at conversation, and under the circumstances, would have been more comfortable curled in a ball under a blanket in her own room.
“Billy told me you’re a dental assistant.”
Wren nodded. “Yes.”
“He says you sing.”
Wren turned to Dot. “I sing?”
She nodded and took an exit. “He says you have a great voice.”
Wren’s mind raced to figure out when Gramps would have heard her sing. The shower? During homework when her ear buds were in? “I was never in choir or anything.”
“Some things we aren’t brave about, and some things we are. Sticking my hands into strange people’s mouths has never appealed to me, but I bet it’s a solid living.”
Wren didn’t know what to say to that. She’d wanted to be a dental assistant since her first teeth cleaning. She liked her job. But she’d never considered it brave.
“Do you hike?” Dot asked.
Wren paused, wondering if she’d heard the question right. “Uh... sure? In the summer?”
Dot nodded thoughtfully.
Wren stared out the window, gripping her phone, and reconsidered her decision to come here. Never get into a car with a stranger. Hadn’t that been drilled into her head as a child?
“How do you know my grandfather?” Wren asked as they turned into a neighborhood.
“Here we are.” Dot pulled into the driveway of an ordinary-looking home on an ordinary-looking street lined with similar homes all tucked in next to one another.
Dot sat back in her seat and looked at Wren. “My name is Dorothy Gallagher. I went to school with your grandpa in Madison, and we even dated for a bit before he left for Vietnam. We played tennis and poker, and in the summer after we got off work at the Woolworth’s, we’d go jump off the train bridge into the river. He’s one of my best friends. We lost touch, but that never changed. Weren’t many men like him. Probably will never be many men like him.” Her eyes glistened.
Wren smiled. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Dot nodded, sighed, and got out of the car. Wren grabbed her purse, opened the car door, and followed Dot into the house. Gramps had mentioned both his job at Woolworth’s and the train bridge.
“Seth!” Dot removed her jacket and offered to take Wren’s. “Seth!” she called again. “He’s probably out back. He helped put together this whole thing. He’s going to be so upset.” At Wren’s confused expression, Dot placed a hand on her arm. “Not at Billy. That’s not what I meant. Seth!” She threw their jackets over the back of a sofa.
A door opened toward the back of the house. “Is that you, Grandma?”
A young man came around the corner into the front room. His wide grin wavered only a moment when he saw Wren. He stepped forward and kissed Dot’s cheek. He stepped back, still smiling, and looked beyond Wren to the front door, then back to Wren.
“Who’s this?”
He wasn’t particularly striking, but nice to look at. Kind of bookish. His eyes were startlingly blue. Wren wished she had a smile that open. She brushed some of her dark hair behind her ear and looked at the ground.
“This...” Dot put her arm unexpectedly around Wren’s shoulders. “Is Wren Lario, Billy Tivegna’s granddaughter. Wren, this is my wonderful grandson, Seth. Seth, shake her hand.”
He did, an amused gleam in his eye. Wren smiled.
“Wren came all this way to give us some very tough news.”
Wren’s smile faded. Oh please, she thought. Please don’t make me break the news to another stranger.
But Dot motioned them all to a small dining table behind Seth. After they sat, he looked expectantly from Wren to Dot.
“Wren came in on Billy’s flight.” Dot took a deep breath. “Billy passed away on Saturday.” She placed her hand over her mouth as her chin began to quiver.
“Oh, Grandma,” Seth whispered. He got out of his chair and crouched next to her, wrapping her in his arms.
Wren worked past the lump in her throat and said, “We didn’t have any way to get hold of her.”
Seth looked at her. “I’m sorry. You came all the way here?”
Wren shrugged. “I couldn’t let her find out from an airport employee.”
Dot pulled out of Seth’s embrace, grabbed a napkin out of the napkin holder in the center of the table, and blew her nose. “She did a very selfless thing.” She shook her head and blew her nose again. “You’ve got a lot of your grandpa in you.” She gave a definite nod to her head. “Seth? I have an idea. And it’s a good one.” She turned to Wren. “I bet you’re hungry.”
Wren hadn’t had much of an appetite since Saturday. “I haven’t eaten for a while.”
Dot stood, and so did Seth. “Billy and I were going to Dixie’s for dinner, so that’s where we’ll go. Seth, you’re coming with us. Just as easy to seat a reservation for three as it is for two.”
“I’ll call the restaurant,” Seth said, and left for the kitchen.
Dot walked back to the coats and held Wren’s jacket out for her. “When is your flight home tomorrow?”
“Eleven o’clock in the morning.”
“Hm.” She said no more.
Seth returned. Dot looked at him. “We ready?”
He nodded.
“Let’s go.”
Seth opened the door for them and held out his hand. “I’ll drive.”
“Oh, all right,” Dot said, a little disgruntled, and gave him her keys.
“Thank you.”
Dot moved past him, and he smiled at Wren. He whispered, “You’ve experienced her driving skills firsthand. She’s mad.”
“I’m bold,” Dot called from outside. “If you don’t drive with purpose, you get run off the road.” She kept walking.
Wren stared, looking after Dot. “Gramps used to say that.”<
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Seth followed her gaze. “You’re kidding.”
She shook her head. “He taught me how to drive. Said it every time we got in the car. ‘Remember, if you don’t drive with purpose, you get run off the road.’”
“How was his driving?” Seth asked.
Wren smiled. “Bold.”
He grinned.
The restaurant was crowded and noisy. Before Wren opened her menu, Dot asked a question. “Wren, do you know why your grandpa was coming here?”
“No. He didn’t tell us about the trip. My mom thinks he’d planned to the day he...” She opened the menu to give her hands something to do. “He’d asked to come over to help with the yard on Saturday and said he had something to talk about.”
Dot pressed her mouth in a line and nodded, reading her menu. “Did he ever say anything about me at all?”
“Grandma,” Seth began.
“Let her answer.”
Wren bit her lip. Her mind raced to find any mention, any reference to a woman named Dot, past or present. She took a guess. “Did he... teach you how to drive?”
Dot looked up from her menu, wide-eyed, and then broke into a smile. “You’re darn right he did. In that beautiful blue Buick of his.”
Relief flooded through Wren, so she smiled too. “Now that I think about it, he did seem extra cheerful the last few weeks. Like...” Wren remembered, trying to put words to Gramps’ behavior until he’d gone in the house for a nap. “Like he had a really good secret. Like...” She paused, searching.
“Like it was Christmas Eve,” Dot said, staring at her with glassy eyes.
Wren nodded, her heart breaking a little for this woman with the tough exterior.
“Well,” Dot said, wiping at the corner of her eye and turning back to her menu. “What looks good?”
Wren peeked at Seth. He peeked back from behind his menu. Thank you, he mouthed.
Their food arrived, but Wren could only take a couple of bites. She kept her eyes on her plate. “So, why was Gramps coming here?”
Dot swallowed her bite and set her fork down. “Do you know what a bucket list is?”
Wren lifted her gaze. “The list of stuff you want to do before you—”