“Tallulah placed Sherbet in a good home. And when you were ready, she found you Rags.”
I petted my grandmother’s thigh. “Why don’t you like Rags?”
“But I do.”
I shook my head. “You can’t fool me or him. He knows. You scoot out of his way. Your lip curls up at the sight of him.”
Grandmere stopped toying with my hair and folded her hands. “The cat … he stirs up such sad memories for me, too. My son, your father. It is not right for a parent to outlive a child.”
A silence fell between us. Finally, I said, “I want to know more about my parents, Grandmere. Everything. Not just what’s in their memory box. Will you tell me? How they fell in love. What movies they liked. Everything.”
“Of course.” She rose. With her shoulders squared and her short gray hair secured off her face with sparkling combs, she reminded me of a regal dowager from a Jane Austen novel. “We will do it over picnic lunches. Many picnic lunches. Only the two of us.”
“I’d like that.” I stood and pecked her cheek. “By the way, I have one memory from that day. My mother yelled, ‘Horses.’”
“You said the same back then.”
“She must have seen one.”
“Did you?” Grandmere tilted her head.
“How could I? I was too short to see over the seat. But I remember, as if it happened yesterday, hearing a high-pitched whinny.” I pursed my lips, then continued. “Is it possible that Daddy had to brake for a runaway horse and Sherbet leaped from my arms and Daddy swerved into the tree?”
Grandmere smiled. “Entirely possible.”
“Do you think I’m making it all up?”
“Who knows? Sometimes we have to rewrite history. To protect our hearts.” She stroked my cheek, then exited the living room.
I stared after her, not sure if she was referring to my life or hers. What horror had she seen in war-torn France? What events had she stowed at the far reaches of her mind?
Amy scampered in. “My turn, now?”
“You bet.”
She grabbed my hand and ushered me to the dining room, which was crowded with guests. Chatter and the sound of glasses clinking together created a tympanic symphony.
Before I had moved a foot, Rebecca, wearing a formfitting floral dress, sashayed to my side and displayed her engagement ring, a lovely gold setting with baguettes pillared on the sides of a one-carat beauty. She had moved the smaller band of gold hearts to her right hand. Ipo, in a matching floral shirt, trailed her. He was grinning from ear to ear.
“Isn’t it gorgeous?” Rebecca looked adoringly at Ipo. “It’s Ipo’s grandmother’s. It’s one-of-a-kind from Hawaii.”
As if the ring were a magnet, other women in the room circled around us. Freckles and Delilah said, “It’s lovely.”
“There are all sorts of island blessings that go with it,” Rebecca went on. “Ipo’s trying to teach me Hawaiian.”
A rarely used language in Ohio, I mused, but I wouldn’t put a damper on her soaring spirits.
“
I said, “You’re one lucky man, Ipo.”
“Don’t I know it.”
Meredith swished through the kitchen door, carrying a pumpkin ricotta casserole dish that I loved—rich with pecans, eggs, and cloves. She offered a quick, “Very pretty,” at the sight of Rebecca’s ring, then glided to the dining table where Pepere was setting out the last of the potluck dinner, which consisted of chili and stew, lasagna that I’d made using my mother’s recipe, three or four salads and side dishes, and baskets filled with fresh-baked breads and Cheddar corn muffins. Candles in a silver scrolled candelabra in the middle of the dining table blazed with happy abandon.
Amy reappeared and tugged my hand. “Aunt Charlotte, is it my turn yet?”
I had almost forgotten I was being guided to a surprise. “Lead on.”
Matthew, handsome in a gray pin-striped suit and soft gray shirt, stopped me. He popped the cork on a bottle of white wine and held up the label for display. “How about a fresh pour?” He laced his fingers around the stem of my glass. “This gewurztraminer is from the Bozzuto Winery. Delicate, fruity, a perfect aperitif.”
“Daddy, I’m showing her something,” Amy said.
He tugged gently on a lock of her hair. “In a sec, peanut. Adult business first. Remember what I told you.”
She sighed. “Patience is a virtue.”
“That’s right.”
“Guess I’m not virtuous,” she mumbled.
Matthew chuckled. “So, my sweet cousin, how are you feeling?”
“Wrung out.” The skin around the hamstring muscle where Chip had struck me had turned black and blue and ached like my forehead, but I was alive.
“Why don’t you take a couple days off from the shop? Tyanne, Rebecca, and I have it covered.”
“Work will be good for me. Busy hands.”
“It’s your call, but I think you should give yourself time. By the way, where’s Jordan?”
“He’ll be here soon. He said he had an errand to run.”
Matthew pecked my cheek and continued to make the rounds to the other guests. I caught sight of Tyanne, who was leaning against the wall by the kitchen door and looking longingly at Theo, who stood at the far end of the table with his girlfriend. Sensitive to Tyanne’s plight, Grandmere hadn’t wanted Theo to come to the festivities, but the top three ice sculpture finishers were always included. If only he had placed fourth and not third. Tyanne heaved a sigh, and I thought that she, like I, would have to give herself time. She might consider herself plucky, but life was coming at her fast.
“Now?” Amy asked, her voice peppered with annoyance.
“Yes, sweetheart.”
She prodded me to the far side of the room. “Look.” On the oak-finished sideboard stood an aquarium, complete with green bamboo, colorful stones, and a blue castle.
I bent over to get a closer look. The aerator bubbled merrily in the rear corner. Shimmery tetra swam in and around the castle. “It’s fabulous.”
“We haven’t named the fish, yet.”
“I have.” Clair skipped up, her plaid skirt dancing around her thighs.
“I’m not calling them those names,” Amy said. “They’re stupid. Blitzen and Rudolph. Sheesh!”
“One has a red nose,” Clair explained to me.
To my untrained eye, the four tetra looked exactly the same, but I wasn’t one to discourage creative thinking. “Rudolph and Blitzen, it is.”
“But they’re reindeer names,” Amy said.
“There are four fish. You get to name two and Clair gets to name two,” I said judiciously.
“Okay.” She bent forward to whisper in my ear. “I’ll call mine Speedy and Tommy.”
Clair giggled. “Wait until I tell Thomas.” She ran toward the foyer.
Amy raced after her. “You wouldn’t dare!”
“Oh, yes, I would.”
“Hello, my babies.” Sylvie flounced into the room balancing a foil-covered tray on one hand like a savvy waitress. She posed for a kiss, but the girls ignored her and skipped through the archway. “Well!”
Grandmere scuttled to my side. “
“I’ll handle it.” I marched to Sylvie, who had changed out of her
