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  Charlie choked back tears, didn't want them to disrupt a time of happiness. "You don't even know what I want to do with it."

  "You could throw paint balls at the wall and it would be okay with me," Mary teased, knowing they both needed the levity. Glancing over at Casey and Mallie she could see they needed it too. "What about you, Mallie. Are you going to be part of our little venture?"

  "The only venture my folks are letting me be part of is the education they claim I can't live without."

  "So," Casey gave her cousin's daughter a look of understanding but unwilling to jump into that particular fire... and walked over to where her aunt and Mary stood together. "Which room you want?"

  "Worried I'll want yours and your cousin will favor me over you?"

  Casey squirmed under her aunt's knowing eyes, but darn it, she wanted the front room with all the great windows and bright morning light.

  Charlie laughed. She knew her girls. "I don't think you're going to be effected, sweetie." She turned back to Mary, "I'd like to use the rooms over the old garage." She walked over to the back window of the kitchen that looked out onto the old carriage house situated at the back of the property that had long ago been converted to a garage.

  "That old dump?" Mallie looked out too, worried about her grandmother out in the building that looked like it was about to fall in on itself.

  "The rooms above it used to be wonderful. Mama fixed it up like a doll house when we were little. She would use them as guest rooms when family visited." She thought back to the wonderful times spent out there. "I think I might move here." She felt more than heard her granddaughter's gasp. "I could easily live in those rooms and I might even start painting again. If I'm remembering correctly, the room on the south side gets a lot of sun for much of the day and the other room in the corner has windows on three sides. It would be perfect for a studio."

  Everyone else in the room stood quietly stunned. Each of them knew Charlie hadn't picked up a paintbrush let alone painted anything in years. Mary finally broke the silence, "I think that's a wonderful idea." She wasn't sure how her cousins, especially her cousin Carrie, were going to feel about their mother moving out from under their watchful eyes. It was something she suspected might be part of her aunts motivation in this decision. "I know someone who can start working on the carriage house right away. I don't want you moving in there, if that's what you decide, until it's structurally sound and decorated just the way you want it."

  "Honey," Charlie felt excited, no…she thought, she felt exhilarated. "You take care of the structural part of it and I'll take care of decorating it." And she'd do it just the way she wanted. She had a picture in her mind already of how she wanted it to look. A little bit of how it had been, how her mother had decorated it, and a little of her own touch as well.

  The sound of a cell phone ringing broke the quiet as each of the women were thinking of the changes that were coming about. Mallie pulled hers out thinking it was the call she dreaded from her parents only to find it silent. "It's not mine."

  Mary looked towards her aunt, realized the increasingly loud and irritating buzzing was coming from her huge purse. "Aunt Charlie, I think it may be your phone."

  "Oh." Charlie pulled the phone from the depths of her bag, squinted as she peered to see who was calling her. "It's Carolina." She deftly tossed the phone back into her bag. "She's been calling all morning." She smiled at the others in the room. "I'm going to look around upstairs. Come with me, Mallie. I want to show you where my room was when I was your age." Mallie gave the other two a look that easily said, "What do I know...I'm just the kid in the room."

  Once they heard their steps on the stairs, Casey turned to Mary. "Carrie is probably pulling her hair out with worry." She shook her own head. "I just can't picture my Mom ever purposely ignoring my call and tossing the phone around like peppermints." She played with that picture in her head. "But what do I know?"

  Mary chuckled quietly at the image that evoked. She couldn't see it either. But obviously her Aunt Charlie wasn't in the mood to talk with her only daughter. It had been a long time since she'd heard her cousin referred to as Carolina. Everyone, including Aunt Charlie, for as long as she could remember had called her Carrie. "I'll call her when we get back to the house."

  "How are you going to do that with Aunt Charlie close by?"

  Mary thought about it. "You take her and Mallie to meet Grace. They'll get along wonderfully. And they'll both love seeing the store."

  Casey nodded agreeing that it was the better choice for Mary to call her. She and Carrie got along fine but rarely saw eye to eye on much of anything. If there were issues brewing between her cousin and her mother she wasn't the person to be dealing with it. No doubt, Carrie had probably heard from her brother not long after Mary had spoken to him that morning to get Mallie off the proverbial hook. "Better yet, why don't you head back now to make the call and when Aunt Charlie is done here, we'll stop by Grace's on the way back to give you the extra time you'll probably need with Carrie."

  Mary agreed and as she walked through the front door it warmed her to hear her aunt's laughter coming from the second floor.

  

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

  "Carrie?" Even as Mary spoke into her phone she was still uncertain just how much she wanted to tell her cousin especially over the phone.

  "Is my mother okay?"

  "She's fine, Carrie."

  "Is she ignoring her phone?"

  Mary heard the frustration but she also heard the underlying layer of worry. She reacted to both as well as her instincts. She'd seen her aunt's expression when she tossed her phone back into her bag...easily interpreted as gleeful, almost too gleeful. And she knew intrinsically from first-hand experience on both sides of the aisle that no one knew you better than your mother. No one knew better which buttons to push...or where they were.

  "Where are you Carrie?"

  "About halfway through Ohio."

  Bingo, thought Mary. "Are you by any chance heading here?"

  "Of course I'm heading there. My mother takes off with my teenage niece like a couple of kids on a lark. Doesn't answer my phone calls. My oldest brother is threatening to put them both over his knee. What else would I be doing if not heading there."

  Mary sighed, waited the few moments she knew it might take for Carrie to figure it out on her own. In her judgment it was always best that way. It was always much easier and often much safer for everyone involved, especially family, to come to the conclusion on their own rather than to be told and have to accept grudgingly what they hadn't been allowed the time to work out for themselves. Occasional gentle prodding was okay but only as a last resort. She hoped it wouldn't be necessary here. When she heard the sigh and what sounded like a thumping noise, something similar to the sound of a hand hitting repeatedly on the steering wheel of a car, she knew her cousin had worked it out for herself.

  "I'm doing exactly what she wanted." This time Mary heard a touch of disbelief mixed in with the frustration.

  "Maybe," she said gently. "Carrie," Mary decided to give her something else to think about on the long drive she had left in front of her before she got here. Something to help her to see beyond her own view, beyond that of her brothers. One thing Mary knew for certain and that was the sway Carrie held over her brothers when it came to their mother. "I just left her with Casey and Mallie at the Marshall Street house so I could give you a call."

  "At least someone did." Carrie was having little success at holding on to her mad. Her mother had always had that effect on her.

  Mary continued without commenting. She understood mother and daughter relations as well as anyone. "I left so I could call you in private, and as I was leaving I heard your mother laughing in a way I haven't in a long, long time." She paused, let it sink in. "It was spontaneous Carrie, not polite or to make someone else feel comfortable." She heard the sigh, knew she'd been heard and understood. "And she was talking about painting again."

  Carr
ie didn't respond. Couldn't respond. She understood full well the import of what Mary was telling her. Her mother hadn't painted in almost ten years. Not since she'd borne the impact of losing her husband and two sisters. They'd all felt it, each of them in varying ways. But her mother had been worn fragile by it, had pulled into herself in a way, to a place, where few of them could reach her. When she'd finally begun to live again, there were parts of the woman she'd been they didn't get back. Her painting had been one of those things. To her own knowledge her mother hadn't touched a paintbrush in all that time. Never spoke of it.

  "Okay, I'll go easy until I understand better what's going on there."

  Mary knew that was the best that could be expected of anyone. "Drive safe."

  

  CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

  Mary thought about the evening as she changed into her night gown. She was exhausted and wanted more than anything to bury her head in her plumped-up pillow and shut everything off. There was a good chance Carrie could show up anytime during the night especially if she was driving straight through which in all likelihood she was. She would. She knew she wasn't going to get eight straight but would be thrilled with even four.

  Grace had spent much of the evening with them. Instead of cooking, Casey wanted to try out a pizza joint she'd found nearby and brought in enough for everyone and then some. While they were eating Court stopped by to discuss the earlier message she’d left for him. While he shared in the pizza they discussed what she needed done on the carriage house. In the process of all that Aunt Charlie had chimed in and asked who his 'relations' were and where they were from. Much of the remainder of the night was spent discussing who knew who, who was related to whom, and who they were all related to including each other in any and sometimes convoluted ways.

  It had been a stimulating and wonderful night for her aunt. She hadn't seen nor heard her as animated and filled with laughter and willing conversation in such a long time. She wasn't the only one who noticed the difference either. She'd seen Mallie watching her grandmother off and on through much of the evening. Not so much in concern as with surprise. She'd been so little, Mary thought, when Aunt Charlie's world had been turned upside down. It was possible she didn't remember her grandmother in this way. Mary did and was pleased as punch to see the change.

  Before Court took off he assured Mary the Carriage House would be at the top of his list. Remembering how only days before he had mentioned an upcoming deadline he had coming up she made clear she understood she wasn't his only customer. She was surprised and wondered even now at his almost sheepish smile accompanied by his assurance that his other work could easily be rescheduled without a problem. Uncertain of exactly what he was talking about she simply let it go. She was after all, going to benefit from it and figured he knew best how to arrange his own schedule. He was under no illusions about what needed to be done and how long it would take. They had taken the short walk down the alley and wandered through the old Carriage House at the back of the property. After that Court felt certain he could have it done in two weeks or less. Including the installation of new windows that would run almost from the floor to the ceiling for the room Aunt Charlie had claimed would be a perfect studio for her.

  She had just relaxed on her pillow and turned out her bedside light when she heard the soft knock at her door followed by the creaking noises that told her the door was being slowly edged opened.

  "Mary...are you still awake, honey?"

  "I just turned off the light," which she sat up against her pillows to switch back on. "Are you okay, Aunt Charlie?"

  "I'm fine." Her aunt sat down on the edge of the bed looking small and frail in her long white nightgown. Her face was troubled and anxious yet the light in her eyes glittered in excitement. "Something came to me," she paused. "I was almost asleep and I...I..." she tried to find the words to describe what she'd just experienced. I heard my sister's voice, Charlie thought to herself. And heard it as clear as day. But wasn't ready, might not ever be ready, to share that experience.

  Mary waited, she sensed her aunt was weighing her words, sensed too a caution that made her wonder and caused her worry.

  Charlie finally decided to skip over the how and why for the moment. "Could we go over to the big house." She saw the slight raising of eyebrows, knew the request bordered on ridiculous. "I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important." She glanced up, not so much in prayer as in looking for guidance. A look Mary saw brief that it was and had an instinctual feeling based on some of her own moments since returning to Burlington. Without another word she rose and put her robe on. "Let's go."

  "In our robes?" It wasn't so much that Charlie was aghast as much as she was surprised at her Mary. Her prim and proper niece would normally take the time to dress and maybe put on makeup just to walk out the door or take the trash out let alone walk down the street never-mind that it was pitch dark and close to midnight.

  Mary paused, smiled at her aunt as if she could read every thought going through her head. "It's late, it's dark, we'll go down the alley and if anyone sees us we'll just tell them we're taking a late night walk to ward off insomnia."

  Charlie smiled back. It sounded good to her. "Let's go then."

  "I'm going too!" Mallie spoke loudly from the living room couch. From the back bedroom they could all hear Casey's loud sigh and the accompanying sounds as she threw back her covers and prepared for the late night venture into the dark.

  

  "I thought you hated that stairway." Casey stated upon hearing where her aunt wanted to go when they got to the house. They were huddling down the alley, already halfway to their destination.

  "I did and I do," Charlie agreed. "I hardly ever went on those stairs, your mother wasn't too fond of them either, though she wasn't as nervous about them as I was. She would take them if it worked for her."

  Casey ignored the implications of that statement. She'd heard plenty of the stories of her mother's shenanigans and could press on the reasoning behind those words at some other time. "Then why are we doing this?"

  "Miri." Charlie looked at Mary. "Your mother didn't have a problem with them. Or the basement now that I think of it." She had wondered about it, but never gave it much thought. But they’d been children and so often went their own ways. She wished now she'd paid more attention to her sisters and what they enjoyed and dreamed of when they were young. "But Miri would spend hours in her little room that Dad made up for her off the stairs. I never understood what she saw in it." She shook her head at the memory. "It was no bigger than a large closet."

  Casey and Mary automatically looked at each other. What little room? Each thought to themselves. Casey spoke first. "I'll go back and get the light and flashlights."

  Mary nodded and watched as Casey jogged back from where they came then turned back to her aunt. "Do you know what she did there?" She didn't ask the obvious questions about the room. They would find that out soon enough.

  "I honestly don't know for certain." And wasn't that shameful Charlie thought to herself. "Writing probably," she felt a soft wind against her face, felt a warmth flow through her in the still night air. Held it close. "She was always writing." She turned to Mary. "She was so proud of you," her voice shook slightly. "You achieved all that she dreamed of for herself." She stared steadily at her niece. "She was never resentful and so proud of all you wrote."

  "I didn't know Mama wanted to write."

  "She didn't just want to, she did." Charlie corrected as they walked through the front doors of the dark house. She automatically reached over to push on the light switches still positioned exactly where they'd been during all the years of her childhood. Walking straight back into the kitchen, she paused in front of the back stairway, its door still propped open. She sighed, she really did hate that dark, gloomy space. Couldn't remember a time when she hadn't.

  "Casey should be here in a second or two with some flashlights." Mary joined her aunt and peered up the stairway as well. With this new knowledge
getting the door at the top of the stairway opened up took on new significance. If Court couldn't get to it quick enough she and Casey could take a hammer to the wall and rip out whatever had been put up to close it off. That would at the least provide another source of light to the small and narrow area until they could work out something better. She sighed. She should have taken a hammer to it days ago.

  "I've got light," Casey announced as she entered the kitchen, far more excited than she'd been when she dragged herself out of bed.

  Mary walked over to her aunt. "Do you remember where this room was or even how to get to it?" She couldn't for the life of her imagine how anything resembling a room could open up off the stairway.

  Charlie strained to remember. "Remember. You remember." The words had woken her. Miri's voice. And immediately had come the memory of so long ago, teasing her older sister for spending so much time alone in the dark. "I remember. I do remember." She spoke softly, almost to herself.

  "Grandma?" Mallie quietly, protectively eased up next to her grandmother, worried at the whispered, almost desperate words. She was beginning to understand that this was more than a late night adventure into the unknown darkness.

  Charlie leaned into the comfort of her granddaughter's presence. She knew how to get where they were going she just couldn't remember exactly where from. Remember. She felt the gentle wind on her face again, a whispery soft touch along her cheek that took her back to those early years of childhood. Remember. Could it be that, could it be that simple? "Give me a flashlight," she reached for the one Casey held out, put her foot on the first step.

  "Be careful, Grandma." Mallie was right behind her, her young hand on her grandmother's back, lending support and balance.

  In her mind, she spelled out the word, taking a step with each one. R. E. M. E. M. B. E. R. It brought her to the small landing just before the stairs turned. Going on instinct and faded memories she ran her right hand against the wall, starting from the banister, trying to remember that day so long ago. "Dad helped her make this place," she spoke almost to herself, working back through the years. Trying to remember what it was she was missing. "It's not that he loved her best, he wasn't like that." She sighed, remembering how hurt she’d felt because of all the times Miri and her father had spent together. She would hear them talking and laughing first thing in the mornings before anyone else was up. And remembered too her sister's raw agony at his death. Understood now...understood better, after having lost both her sisters. And her Jason. It had sent her into a spiral she had little memory of but had survived in spite of. "But he loved her different. And she adored him." Charlie had a thought, ran her hand instead along the banister. "I don't think she came up here again after he died. I never saw her at least." She felt the slight notch in the banister surface and almost immediately felt that same whispery gust of air brush ever so gently past her face, the slightest of kisses brushing the air, softly swirling around her like a cape. And with its touch her vague memories focused in sharply...as clear as if it had been yesterday rather than a life of yesterdays ago. Remembering, she let her fingers lie on the rough notch in the wood then stretched them out to touch the wall in line with it. She felt the small knob, almost right against the banister and with all the precious strength she could muster in her hand, she pushed it in and then to one side, guessing which way to push, and felt it move ever so slightly.