“Ricky called and explained. He didn’t divulge anything, but he suggested that there might be problems with the rest of your family. I think we witnessed a bit of that at the ceremony.”
Amber nodded.
“Thank you.”
“That was a lovely service. Is there going to be a memorial service later? Or a celebration of life?”
“No,” Amber said with a sad smile. “Cousin Evelyn had very strong opinions of such things. She said that it was important that people got to see her go into the ground, but she didn’t want people sitting around in a church talking about what they remembered about her.”
“Oh?”
“I can’t explain it. She even specified that none of the family were to be invited to her house after the burial. She said that too many of them had sticky fingers and that her possessions were to be doled out after the fact. As soon as I alerted her lawyer that she had passed, he fired off letters to everyone. When she talked about death, Evelyn was always so casual. She claimed that she didn’t care what happened after she died because she hoped that she would be leaving all that behind. But then she had all these careful instructions. She was a mystery.”
“You were close?”
“For the last few years, yes. When things fell apart between me and the rest of the family, she tracked me down with a phone call to let me know that I was right and everyone else was wrong. There was no reason at all for her to get involved, but she did. That pretty much ruined her relationship with everyone too. It was so nice of her to…”
Amber wasn’t able to finish the sentence. She waited until they reached a traffic signal before she wiped her eyes with the tissue that Liz handed her.
“Please let me know if we’re intruding at all,” Liz said. “I know we weren’t expected.”
“No, please. I’m surprised, but I’m really grateful that you came.”
“Good. Ricky said that you were getting sick of him.”
Amber smiled. “Not him, just his obsession.”
Liz sighed. “I hear you. He’s been trying to get us to open up with other people in the town. He doesn’t seem to realize how difficult it is. We will always be outsiders to most of them, and broadcasting what happened is likely to alienate us even more. People don’t need to be reminded that we disrupted things.”
“Actually, that was my idea,” Amber said.
“Oh?”
“I figured that more people in on the secrets would mean more eyes looking for future trouble. I thought he could create a network, like a paranormal version of neighborhood watch.”
“Huh,” Liz said. “I wish he had put it that way. It makes sense when you describe it that way. Everyone is so hesitant to admit that anything strange is happening because it challenges their status quo and then…”
“They fall victim,” Amber finished.
“Exactly. But by normalizing these undeniable things we all see the world more clearly. Smart.”
“That was the hope,” Amber said. “I guess it hasn’t worked so far?”
“Now that I understand better, it’s worth another shot. Thanks for thinking about us.”
“No problem,” Amber said. “I owe you guys.”
“And we owe you.”
# # #
Back in Evelyn’s kitchen, they sat around the table in mismatched chairs while Amber put on a pot of coffee.
Ricky glanced around the kitchen before he asked, “Did your cousin live here long?”
Amber followed his gaze and saw the kitchen with fresh eyes. The walls were bare. There was hardly any color in the room. It was just appliances and cabinets, almost like nobody lived there.
“Evelyn was blind and she hated dusting, so she refused to put anything on the walls.”
“I wasn’t…”
“But to answer your question, yes. She and her husband bought this house in the sixties.”
“It’s lovely,” Alan said. “Perfectly maintained.”
Amber laughed. “Nice of you to say.”
“Is this your first time in North Carolina, Joe?” Ricky asked.
Joe was staring at his phone. He shook his head without looking up until his father kicked him under the table. After that, Joe put his phone away and said, “Nope. I was here when I was two.”
“You weren’t two,” Liz said. “I think you were… Nine?”
“Two,” Joe said. “They claim that I went all around the world when I was too young to remember.”
“This is my first time in North Carolina. It’s a nice break from the snow back home,” Ricky said. “I haven’t left Maine very much, not even when I was two.”
“How do you like it so far?” Amber asked. She brought mugs to the table and then got the cream from the refrigerator.
“If this as bad as the winter gets,” Ricky said, “I might consider moving down this way.”
“You would regret it in a couple of months,” Amber said. “It’s pretty hot and sticky. The Maine summer was wonderful in comparison.”
“I don’t know,” Ricky said. “It gets pretty hot up our way too.”
Amber laughed at him. “My uncle’s idea of air conditioning was a seventy-year-old fan he put in the window. I don’t think you know what hot is.”
Ricky blushed. “You’re probably right.”
Amber poured coffee. Joe only wanted half a cup and then added so much cream and sugar that it was almost white. His hands fidgeted without his phone to occupy them.
Nobody said anything for a couple of minutes.
Amber opened her mouth to tell Ricky that she was through with his book and then she stopped herself. She didn’t want to bring up the subject in front of Joe. There was no telling how much his parents had said to him.
Alan broke the silence. “I should go check in at the hotel. Joe, you want to come with me?”
“Yes,” Joe said. He was up and out of his chair before he even finished answering.
Alan smiled. “You need anything while we’re out?”
Amber shook her head. “I can’t think of anything.”
“You mind if we stay?” Liz asked, pointing to herself and Ricky.
“No, of course,” Amber said.
“Good. We’ll figure out something to get for takeout, if that’s okay. Honey, I’ll message you where and
