Deep in the Heart. Jane Perrine Myers
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did Kate feel the need to explain herself to a nine-year-old?
She’d never known exactly when Brooke was born. The baby had suddenly appeared during the dark, silent period after Mom’s and Dad’s deaths.
Abby hadn’t told Kate about the accident that claimed their lives nearly ten years earlier, either. The first Kate knew they’d died came a month after the fatal automobile crash when the lawyer wrote Kate to explain the terms of their will and her inheritance of half of the estate. Her sister had neither written nor called to tell Kate about their passing or the funeral. She’d never known how to react to such a breach of family…well, conduct by Abby. Fury was the main emotion that filled her until she could finally sort through her grief.
During a telephone conversation almost a year later, Abby mentioned her daughter and, typically, hung up without giving her sister information about her only niece. Kate wasn’t about to beg. Pride, another one of her flaws, and a lot of anger kept her from pressing for more details.
All in all, the relationship between the sisters was a case of sibling rivalry gone very bad and very mean. It wasn’t all Abby’s fault, as much as Kate wished she could blame everything on her sister’s difficult personality. No, growing up with Miss Mesa County as a sister wouldn’t have been easy for anyone. Kate could admit now she’d been a jerk at times. Giddy with her newfound power to attract men, she’d stolen Abby’s boyfriend. Kate hated to admit even now that she’d done anything so petty. Abby had never forgiven her. Nor, she was pretty sure, had the other young woman she’d taken a boyfriend from.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t like to share half with me?” Kate flopped the sandwich on a plate and turned off the burner.
When Brooke shook her head, Kate poured herself a soft drink and sat down at the table.
Other than playing havoc with personal relationships, her self-centeredness had served Kate pretty well until her world blew up and she didn’t have the ability, strength or, really, the desire to deal with it. On top of that, who would have guessed she had a streak of honesty she couldn’t ignore? Not her.
When she discovered integrity wasn’t a trait greatly respected in her chosen career, she’d slunk back to Silver Lake, to care for the sister who still hated her.
Life sure served up curve balls sometimes.
Looking up to notice Brooke had flitted away again, Kate finished her sandwich, awakened Coco and opened the back door. Even with her bad hip, the dog was able to get down from the porch herself. The problem was getting back up.
While the cocker sniffed around in the yard and woofed several times, Kate opened the trunk of her car and pulled out the last of her things: her laptop, a box of her favorite books and a flower-covered gift sack, which contained the odds and ends saved over the past twelve years. Everything else—her chrome furniture, the Prada suits and Manolo Blahnik shoes—was in storage in Miami. She grabbed her purse, the now out-of-style Kate Spade bag that had cost way too much. She wished she had that money back now. She should have purchased something serviceable and much less expensive at JCPenney as she had her jeans and athletic shoes.
She toted the load into her bedroom. Then she chose a book from the box, grabbed her soft drink and settled in one of the cushioned chairs on the porch. She started to read, leaning her head back against the pillow and relaxing into the lumpy softness.
“Guess that long drive tuckered you out.”
Her eyes fluttered open. Birdie Oglesby, school librarian and a pillar of the church, stood on the porch about ten feet from her.
“Hello, Mrs. Oglesby,” she said around a big yawn as she stood. “I guess I dozed off.”
“Must have needed that nap. I’m just going to put this in the kitchen.” The thin little woman with a helmet of tightly permed white hair strode ahead of Kate. She swept into the house like an invader with no resistance in front of her, but an invader with everyone’s best interests at heart.
Kate hurried after her. Once in the kitchen, Mrs. Oglesby put a casserole dish on the counter before turning back to Kate, a sincere smile warming her features. “I’m glad you’re back, girl. Real glad.”
For the first time in months, Kate felt warmth seep through her and smiled back. “Thank you, Mrs. Oglesby. I don’t think that’s unanimous.”
“Most of the town is happy you’re back and the others? Well, some people are always negative. Probably no one could win them over, not even you at your most charming.”
“But I wasn’t always the most pleasant person, Mrs. Oglesby.” If Kate had hoped for contradiction here, she didn’t get one.
“None of us always are,” the older woman said. “Now you’re back to help your sister in her time of trouble and that wipes out a multitude of shortcomings. Goodness knows, you won’t get a thank-you from Abby, but when a family member needed something, you stepped up to the plate.”
“Anybody would’ve…”
“No.” Mrs. Oglesby shook her head. “Your sister was supposed to have surgery months ago. No one here would help her, so she finally asked you, and you came.” She waved at the dish she’d brought in. “This is a real good chicken spaghetti recipe. The church will bring food for this first week while Abby’s recovering. We’ll be back next weekend with more.”
“Thank you,” Kate said as Mrs. Oglesby headed outside.
“We’d like to see you at church tomorrow,” the librarian said as the screen door slammed behind her.
Kate had forgotten the generosity of small-town churches. Within the next half hour, fifteen more people brought food—salads, vegetable dishes, casseroles of all kinds, meat, several pies and a cake. As Kate gazed at the number of dishes on the counter, she heard a soft footstep behind her.
“Brooke, I could really use your help putting all this away,” Kate said before her niece could disappear. “Why don’t you come in and help me.” When Brooke continued to rock back and forth in the hall, one foot in front of her, the other behind, Kate added, “I don’t even know where the aluminum foil is.”
With dragging steps, Brooke entered the kitchen, opened a drawer and waved her hand at the contents.
“Okay, you and I have to decide what we’ll eat right away and what to freeze.” Kate began to wrap a pie. “What would you like for dinner tonight?”
Brooke pointed at the brisket and several other dishes. “And Miss Betsy’s red velvet cake,” she said with a bit of animation in her voice. Obviously the cake had power if it could elicit a positive response from Brooke.
“What time will your mother get home?” Kate asked after they finished wrapping and freezing the rest of the food. The question was answered by the sound of the front door opening and banging shut. Footsteps echoed across the hall and Abby came into the kitchen. No smile crossed her sister’s still lovely features, no light brightened her dark eyes at the sight of her only sister, but her stiff posture showed that Abby carried a load of tension in her shoulders, neck and jaw.
Kate started to hug Abby because, after all, wasn’t that what a person did when she hadn’t seen her sister for twelve years? Evidently not. As soon as she touched her sister, Abby stiffened even more and stepped back.
“Hello, Kate,” she said as if they’d seen each other only a few hours earlier and that experience had not been particularly pleasant. She moved around Kate and put the mail on the counter. “There’s a library notice for you, Brooke. Please take care of it.” She handed the card to her daughter and sorted through the other envelopes.
“What’s that?” Abby stared as Coco ambled into the room.
“That’s my dog, Coco.”
When Coco gave a woof, Abby laughed, not a mirthful sound. “You always said you’d have a dog named Coco, but I thought it was going to be a teacup poodle.” Abby