Something to fax over to Jenna on Monday. That’s all they needed: a ticking clock to bump up the stress another level. Here she was, in one of the most difficult periods of her life, when a woman gathered her friends around her and gained strength from their support. Jane had Perry now, so it was natural that she think of him and what he needed first, rather than her friends. Same with Nicole. Liza was so far away from them emotionally that Eve sometimes wondered if friendship was possible anymore, even if they came to some agreement about the lottery money.
She could use Liza’s unconventional, no-holds-barred approach to life right now. How had it come to this? She, the relationship guru, couldn’t hang on to even her oldest friendship to save her life.
Even Mitch had withdrawn emotionally-not a lot, but enough to be noticeable-when she’d brought up the subject of where they might go from here. Because of course he’d have to return to New York eventually. Would they have a long-distance affair? Doable, but not very convenient on those nights when she was feeling sexy and ready to jump him the minute he walked in the door.
Like now, for instance.
Where was he? It was nearly six-half an hour after he’d said he’d come back.
Do not call, she told herself firmly. Don’t go all clingy on him. He ran into traffic, that’s all. Not surprising on a Saturday evening.
The phone rang with a suddenness that made her jump. Don’t be Mitch, saying you’re not coming.
“Hi darlin’, it’s Grandmother.”
“Hi!”
“Don’t sound so surprised. Do you have a minute to chat?”
So far, Charlotte hadn’t been much for chatty phone calls. Maybe this was a sign that their relationship was about to become closer. That could only be good.
“Of course. I’m just waiting for Mitch to show up. He’s late, so you can keep me from throwing ornaments at the front door while I wait.”
“Mitch. He’s the young man you brought to dinner?”
As if she didn’t know. Eve murmured in the affirmative.
“He didn’t strike me as a man who would keep you waiting long. I saw how he looked at you. Is he going to be The One?”
That surprised a chuckle out of Eve. “I have no idea, Grandmother. I sort of brought up the future earlier today and he vanished. He said he had business to do, but I think he’s having a cave moment.”
“Let him have it, then. He’ll come around.”
“I’m wearing a tangerine sundress. If that doesn’t do the job, I’m taking it back.”
Her grandmother laughed. Maybe this was the moment of change in a relationship that, if cordial, hadn’t exactly had those moments of closeness and companionship that had marked her relationship with Nana. Although, she’d only seen Charlotte a couple of times a year, and she’d lived with Nana. Allowances had to be made. But all the same, hearing her grandmother laugh like that was almost worth the risk of revealing her hopes and fears.
If you couldn’t trust your family with your inmost self, who could you trust?
Hold that thought. “I went to Mirabel today,” she blurted with no lead-in whatsoever.
A careful silence hissed gently on the line. “Did you, now? And what did you think?”
“It was lovely. Smaller than I expected. Wonderful grounds, though. Grandmother, how come we never talk about our family?”
“You obviously haven’t spent enough time with Roy and Anne, honey pie.”
“They talk about ancestors and people from eighty years ago. I’m talking about what it was like recently. You know, when Dad and Roy were kids.”
“Did it ever occur to you that it might be painful for me to think about what was, in comparison to what is now, Eve?”
When Grandmother dropped the “honey pie,” things were getting serious. Eve gave herself a mental smack. “I’m sorry. But I was talking to a docent there-it’s open to the public now, part of the Ashmere Trust-and I had this moment of weirdness, knowing I was hearing more about my family from a stranger than I’d ever heard from you or Uncle Roy or even Nana Calvert.”
“Who was it?”
“A lady named Adele Pierce. She said she used to babysit Dad and Uncle Roy when they were kids. Do you remember her?”
“Adele. Adele.” Her grandmother sounded puzzled. “Good heavens, you don’t mean Adele Crosby?”
“She said her name was Pierce. Her married name, I suppose.”
“She did marry a Pierce, now that I think of it. No wonder you learned a lot…that girl was the worst gossip I ever met. She could talk the hind leg off a donkey.”
“And yet, when I wanted her to talk, she wouldn’t. There was a photograph there. She gave it to me. It showed Uncle Roy with his arm around Mom, and Dad standing off to the side. Did Mom date Uncle Roy before she got together with Dad?”
“When was it taken?”
“I don’t know. It wasn’t dated. But Mom had hair down to her waist, parted in the middle. And platform shoes. So I’d guess early seventies. She couldn’t have been more than sixteen.”
“I have no memory of such a picture, or why it would be at Mirabel instead of in one of our photo albums.”
“Uncle Roy donated copies of some pictures to the trust. Adele gave me the original, though. Maybe it got mixed in by mistake.”
“Maybe. Your mother was good friends with both my boys, Eve. They hung around together like the Three Musketeers, until Gibson and then Roy went off to college.”
Her tone was dismissive, as though the picture were insignificant. Maybe it was. But there was something in the expression of that boy who had become her dad-some hurt, some pain that the camera had caught-that made her reluctant to let it go. And there had been that swift change of subject on Adele’s part, too.
“Honey pie, the girls are at the door for our book club meeting. I need to go.”
“Bye, Grandmother. I’ll call you next week.”
“You do that. I want to hear more about your young man.”
Eve hung up with a smile, and went to get her notebook out of her handbag. Still no sign of Mitch, and it was ten past six. There must have been an accident on the freeway. Well, if he wasn’t here by six-thirty, she’d call the restaurant and move their reservation out another half hour.
Adele Crosby Pierce answered her phone on the fourth ring, about when Eve expected it to jump to voice mail.
“Oh, hello, dear. How nice of you to call.”
She didn’t seem bothered that Eve had tracked down her phone number. But then, her mind lived in a different era, when people called to get a recipe, not to steal a person’s identity or stalk them.
“I wanted to thank you again for showing us around Mirabel, and for giving me this picture of my family,” she began.
“You’re most welcome. I love to introduce people to the past, you know. And today it was particularly lovely, since it was your past.”
Nothing like plunging right in. Eve took a fortifying breath. “That’s what I wanted to ask you about, Adele. This picture that you gave me. Is there some kind of story behind it?”
Silence.
Eve went on, “It seemed to startle you when I asked questions about it, so I wondered if perhaps you would rather talk about it in private. That’s the reason for my call.”
“That’s very considerate of you, dear. You’re the second person who’s asked about it.”
“Oh? Who was the other?” Uncle Roy? Mitch?
“I didn’t catch his name. He said he worked for your television station, though. A terribly nice young man.”
She must be referring to Dylan’s call, earlier, and gotten it muddled up. “Anyway, I was wondering if you’d tell me about the picture, that’s all.”
Another pause. “You know I abhor gossip of any kind, dear.”
Eve thought about what Grandmother would think of this, and smothered a smile. “So do I. Though giving me your memories of my family isn’t gossip, is it?”
“No, I suppose not. Yet, I don’t want to hurt anyone. It wasn’t dear Charlotte’s fault that Loreen couldn’t talk to her. Or Isabel’s either, for that matter. But I was so close to those boys, and even in those days, they would have sent her away anyway.”