garage. The siding was the old-style asbestos shingling formed to look like cedar. There were some gangly old yews planted along the foundation, a slate path to the front door and no mailbox. I braked and crunched up into the drive.
“What do you think?” she asked me.
“A North Sea classic. Could use a little fix-up.”
She leaned toward the windshield to get a better look.
“It does. The lawn’s been cut, but none of the shrubs have been trimmed in a while. My mother and I planted that dogwood in front.” She put out her hand. “It was like this tall. Look how big it’s gotten.”
Next to the drive was a white gate with a curved top covered with ivy and exhausted strands of clematis. In the backyard were rose vines that looked like tangled netting tossed over a split-rail fence.
“Let’s go take a look.”
Amanda jumped out of the car and ran up to the front door. There she stood stymied. I called to her from the car.
“Keys?”
“Of course not.”
She followed me as I walked around to the back of the house. Another little stoop led to the back door. It had a window, so you could see into the kitchen. Amanda made a tunnel with her hands and looked through the glass.
“Looks exactly the same,” she said. “I don’t know why it wouldn’t.”
On impulse I tried the doorknob. Locked, of course.
“My key’s at the house,” said Amanda.
Next to the back stoop was a metal Bilco hatch. I tried that and it opened. The door at the foot of the stairs had a lock, but it didn’t look like much. Designed more for an interior door. I took out my keys and stuck one of them in the keyhole. The lock mechanism was loose, but wouldn’t give it up. So I took out my Swiss Army knife and selected the slot-head screwdriver, bottle-opener feature. Amanda wasn’t saying anything, but I could hear noises coming from her repressed concerns. The lock quickly surrendered to the Swiss Army.
“Why it’s good to bring an engineer.”
“For breaking and entering?”
“This is your house. You’re allowed to break in.”
She followed me into the damp basement. It smelled like a compost heap. I found a light switch and snapped it on. It made both of us jump. I had to remind myself, and her, that nobody was home.
I took her hand and led her up the stairs. Her grip was sure and strong, her palm smooth and dry. She let me pull her along without resisting.
We poked around like a pair of homebuyers The kitchen was straightened, but oddly lived in. There were dishes and non-perishables in the faux colonial cupboards and drawers. The refrigerator was turned off. The counters were covered in textured, lime green Formica. The kitchen had been thoroughly cleaned, though the house smelled like an empty house. We went out into the living room and I found the thermostat. I put it up to seventy degrees and the boiler came on. I turned it back down to shut it off.
I followed her down a narrow hallway that led to the bedrooms. I had to flick on the hall light to see where I was going. It took me a while to find the switch. Amanda was standing so close to me I’d hurt her if I moved too quickly. From where we stood you could see doors to four tiny bedrooms.
“Which was yours?”
It was painted pale blue and crammed with furniture and dolls and stuffed animals. Some looked almost new.
“You liked a lot of friends around?” I asked her.
“My mother was the doll fanatic. Come see.”
One of the bedrooms had been converted into a small sewing room. In the center was an ironing board. An iron lay flat on a piece of gingham fabric. There were tables and cabinets lining the walls. All the horizontal surfaces of the crowded little room were covered with large fabric dolls in various states of finish. The strange quality of all those grinning lifeless faces caught me unprepared.
“Gosh.”
“See what I mean?”
Amanda picked up one of the dolls and looked it over, brushing back its hair and pulling at the tiny outfit.
“She was very talented. Most of these were probably going to charity, but when I was growing up it helped feed us. You’d be surprised how many adults collect dolls.”
“She didn’t have another job?”
“WB. Didn’t everybody? At least till it shut down.”
“Your father, too?”
“That’s what my mother said. I don’t remember. I was too little when he died.”
I thought of Jackie’s aerial map showing my cottage at the tip of Oak Point, right outside the invisible walls that enclosed the WB domain. Invisible to me, because there was never any reason for me to know it was there. It wasn’t my world.
“This is where I found her,” said Amanda. “Right there on the floor. Not surprising, I guess, since this is where she spent all her time.”
On impulse I picked up the iron and smelled it.
“A heart attack?”
“That’s what they thought. We could have done an autopsy, but Roy didn’t like the idea. What difference does it make, he said, how she died?”
I took a closer look at the old iron. It was very old and heavy. The cord was covered in black fabric with white hash marks. The plug at the end was of the same vintage, so you could see how it was wired just by looking at the bottom.
“Did you ever see your mother test the iron to see if it was hot?” I asked her.
She pondered for a moment
“Well, I guess she must have.”
“Held it with her right hand, wet her left index finger and tapped the underside of the iron like this. Psst.”
Amanda nodded as she played the visual in her mind.
“Why?”
“My mother always did that. It seemed so reckless. But that’s what our parents’ generation did. Learned it from their mothers, who heated irons on the stove.”
“I let the cleaners worry about all that. That’s what my generation does.”
She led me back out to the living room where she spent a few minutes looking around and picking things up off tables and the bookshelves on either side of the fireplace. I hadn’t kept any of my parents’ stuff. I thought I would before my mother died, but then when it happened, I just wanted it gone.
“You’re right about your mother,” I said to her.
“What do you mean?”
“I would have liked her.”
“You would have. Everybody did.”
“Everybody but Regina.”
“Everybody but her.”
“You ready?”
“I’m ready.”
We went back out the kitchen door.
“You go ahead. I’ll lock up.”
I let Eddie inspect the yard for a few minutes while Amanda settled back into the Grand Prix. She slid down in the old leather bucket and let her head fall back against the back rest.
“I was fine until we went outside. Now it’s all sort of attacking me.”
“I’m thinking about something clear in a glass. With ice.”
