Suzanna said nothing for several moments. Then she blinked back a tear and looked up at Ida. “I want to stay, truly I do. Living here, I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time.” She hesitated, her lip quivering. “But the truth is you can’t afford this house, and I can’t allow Annie and me to become a financial burden.”
Ida opened her mouth to speak, but Suzanna shook her head. “No, let me finish. You claim Granddaddy would want you to take care of me, but I think he’d also want me to take care of you.” She went on to say that she’d stay but only if Ida allowed her to get a job and pay an equal share of the household expenses.
For a long while they went back and forth, speculating on precisely what the late William Parker’s intentions would have been. Suzanna argued that sharing expenses made sense since she had planned to get a job anyway and would much prefer paying rent to Ida as opposed to a stranger.
With her arms folded tight across her chest, Ida just sat there shaking her head side to side.
“We’re family,” she said emphatically. “Family does not pay rent to one another. If you’ve got extra money, then start saving for Annie’s college education.”
With both of them apparently wanting the same thing but neither of them giving an inch, it seemed to be a stalemate until Ida finally came up with what she called a suitable solution.
“I’m not in favor of strangers tromping through the house, but I guess it would make sense to open up the third floor and rent out the rooms.”
“What third floor?” Suzanna asked.
“The door at the end of the upstairs hallway opens into a staircase. We’ve got two fair size rooms up there and a small bath.”
With the look of disbelief clinging to her face, Suzanna said, “Bedrooms?”
Ida nodded. “Of course they’re bedrooms. Bill and I fixed them up thinking your parents would sooner or later be back for a visit, but they never came. So eventually, we just closed the door and forgot about them. I didn’t see any sense in cleaning rooms that no one was using.”
Still looking a bit stunned, Suzanna agreed it was a good plan.
“As long as I do most of the work getting the rooms ready,” she added.
Suzanna
The Third Floor
THE FOLLOWING MONDAY, SUZANNA AGAIN suggested they get started on the cleaning project, and this time Ida agreed. After Annie left for school with Lois Corky, who was now her best friend, the two women trudged up the staircase to see what did or didn’t need to be done. When they reached the landing, Ida turned right and pushed open the door.
“This room’s the largest,” she said and flipped the light switch. Nothing happened.
“Hmm. Could be the bulb’s burnt out.”
Easing past Ida, Suzanna saw shadows of furniture but little else. “We’re going to need some light. It’s too dark to work in here, and…” She stopped, sneezed three times in quick succession, then finished her sentence. “It smells kind of musty.”
“No wonder; this room’s been closed up for almost twenty years.” Moving gingerly, Ida made her way across the room, pushed the drapes to one side, and raised the shade.
Sunlight flooded the room, a cloud of dust mites swirled through the air, and Suzanna sneezed again. She reached into her pocket for a tissue, then looked up and gasped. Sitting against the far wall was the most amazing bed she’d ever seen.
The ceiling was slanted on that side of the room, and the top arch of the bed rose to the precise point where the wall met the ceiling. It was a dark wood, dulled by layers of dust, but its beauty was still shining through. The crest of the arch was an intricately carved cluster of roses, and beneath that a trailing vine reached out to the far edge of the headboard.
Almost as if the bed were calling to her, Suzanna crossed the room and plopped down atop the flowered spread. A poof of dust rose into the air, and she began sneezing again.
“God bless you,” Ida said. “It’s that coverlet. We need to get rid of it. It’s full of dust and beyond saving.”
Tracing her finger along the edge of a flower, Suzanna looked up with a grin. “No, it’s not. We can air it out and—”
Ida laughed. “That coverlet’s almost as old as I am. I had it before Bill and I were married. And the bed’s older still; it belonged to my mama before me.
Suzanna’s grin grew broader. This wasn’t just any bed; this was a bed with a heritage. A heritage that belonged to Darla Jean Parker. A plan flitted across her mind then doubled back and settled in. Not just now, but before the day was out she would ask Ida about it. No, not Ida. Grandma Ida.
Ida turned back toward the landing. “Let’s check the other room. Then we’ll strip the beds, take the drapes down, and start cleaning.”
She led the way across the short hallway to a second door.
“Now this room’s going to need a lot of work,” she said, fumbling for the light switch. “Definitely a new bed and fresh wallpaper…” She snapped the switch, and the overhead brightened the room. “This is the room Bill intended for you, but then, well, you know what happened.”
Suzanna stood there, her eyes wide and her throat too choked to speak. In the center of the room was the canopy bed Ida had told her about. The organdy covering now drooped on one side, dusty and yellowed with age, but seemed no less beautiful. Her eyes scanned the room trying to take hold of every detail: the ballerina lamp on the nightstand, a partially-finished doll house in the corner, the small rocking chair. The love that had gone into creating this room was obvious. It was still here.
“Your granddaddy built that dollhouse for you.”
