A few months ago she’d been certain of what she wanted, but now she was not at all sure. There had been too many changes in her life, and she questioned whether she was ready for yet another one.
When she’d first come to this house, she and Bill used every room. He read his newspaper in the library, she spent mornings in the sewing room, they’d breakfasted in the alcove, and enjoyed an evening cocktail in the den. The kitchen was filled with the yeasty smell of fresh-baked bread, and there was always company coming or going—out-of-town friends, neighbors stopping by. Why, there were even weekends when they’d push the parlor furniture aside and dance to the tunes of Tony Bennett or Perry Como.
All that stopped when Bill got sick. There was sometimes an evening when he felt up to a cocktail in the den or a few hours of television in the living room, but even that disappeared after a while. He was confined to his bed, and Ida seldom left his side. Other than an occasional trip to the kitchen to warm soup or fix a peanut butter sandwich, she lived in the bedroom. But it was a big house and, with taking care of Bill, more work than she could handle; so, one by one, the other rooms were closed off. After nearly two years of living in just one room, Ida had come to believe she didn’t need a house, especially one as big as this. She was actually looking forward to moving into a small apartment. A one-bedroom, perhaps, with an efficiency kitchen.
Now things had changed. Scout and Annie raced across the back yard, up and down the stairs, played hide and seek in the dusty library, and banged in and out of the front door a dozen times a day. Scraps of material and patterns were scattered about in the sewing room, and if Darla Jean should decide to start having gentlemen callers she would need a decent place to entertain them. The more Ida thought about it, the more she realized that selling the house might not be such a good idea after all. Yes, there was the problem of expenses, but if she were extra prudent she’d be able to hang onto it for at least another year or two.
Ida was still waffling about what to do or not do when Suzanna suggested they start readying the house for the market.
“Not this week,” Ida said. “We’ve got too many things to do.”
Suzanna looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “What things?”
“Tomorrow is a big sale at the Sew & Sew Shop, and I’m supposed to make cookies for the Thursday children’s hour at the library.” When Suzanna stood there looking unimpressed, Ida added that she’d also promised to finish the sweater she was knitting for Annie’s new doll.
“Surely the doll’s sweater can wait,” Suzanna said.
“Not really.” Reaching into her knitting basket, Ida pulled out a ball of blue yarn and began click-clacking her needles. “A promise is a promise, and I certainly wouldn’t want to disappoint Annie.”
“I find it hard to believe you’re putting this project off just because Annie needs a sweater for her doll. There’s something else troubling you.”
Ida’s needles slowed, and she gave a weighted sigh.
“Perhaps,” she mumbled, not looking up.
Suzanna crossed the room, squatted down beside Ida’s chair, and gave her hand an affectionate squeeze. “I think I know what’s wrong.”
Eyeing the well-intentioned expression, Ida asked, “How can you know what’s wrong when I’m not all that sure myself?”
“Because I know how much you loved Granddaddy. You’re afraid if you sell the house, you’ll be leaving all those sweet memories behind and—”
“That’s not the only thing troubling me.”
“Oh? Well, then, what—”
“I’m beginning to think my selling the house isn’t really what Bill wanted.”
“But you said—”
“I know what I said,” Ida replied crisply. “But things have changed. After Bill passed away, I had only myself to consider. Now I’ve got a family to think about.”
Suzanna’s mouth dropped open. “Family? Do you mean Annie and—”
“Of course I do. You’re family. Your granddaddy would want you living here in his house. He always said, ‘Darla Jean will come back, and when she does, we’ll have her room ready and waiting for her.’ You know, I’ve told you that.”
“Yes, but you also told me the house was too big and you couldn’t afford to—”
“Money problems have a way of working themselves out. Bill always said a person needs to focus on the things that are important and not take chances with something they can’t afford to lose.”
“Exactly,” Suzanna said with an affirmative nod. “So why risk your financial security by holding onto a house that’s—”
Ida smiled and shook her head. “Darla Jean, don’t you understand that you and Annie are the things I can’t afford to lose? We’re family, and I know your granddaddy would want us to stay together.”
“Selling the house doesn’t mean we’ll be separated. I plan to find a job right here in town, then get an apartment. Wherever you live, Annie and I will come to visit two or three times a week.”
Ida gasped. “Visit? Visiting is for strangers, not family.”
At a loss for words, Suzanna sputtered, “I didn’t intend…”
Ida reached down and patted her cheek. “I know you mean well, but you and Annie need to stay here. This is where you’ll get to know your granddaddy, where you’ll discover the heritage he left behind. Darla Jean, your granddaddy may be gone from this earth, but I assure you, his spirit is still right here in this house. As long as we stay, he’ll
