She took the card. “Thank you. This means a lot.”
“Well.” Vida Jean wiped her hands on a napkin, fussing a bit as if she didn’t know what else to say, a rarity for either of the twins. “I suppose we should run. We have other calls to make, don’t we, sister?”
“Yes, calls to make.” Willa Dean leaned forward to pat Julia on the hand. “We don’t like to push, but you call us if you want to reminisce. We have photos of Mikey we cherish.”
A lump formed in Julia’s throat. “You ladies are wonderful.”
“Oh, go on now.” Willa Dean took the remaining two muffins, wrapped them in a napkin and slid them into her purse. “For Binky.”
Binky was their parrot.
Then with a flutter, a pair of hugs and two air kisses, the twins were off, leaving Julia standing on the whitewashed veranda wondering who was crazier, she or the twins, as she pressed Mikey’s birthday card against her heart.
* * *
“What were the Sweat twins doing here this morning?” Valery asked. She had finally dragged herself up to the Blueberry Room, looking better than Julia had expected, though her eyes were bloodshot and glassy.
“They brought a card for Mikey’s birthday.”
Valery paused in sanitizing the telephone. Her already pale face blanched whiter and took on a pinched look. “Oh.”
Julia replaced the last blueberry-patterned pillowcase and artfully arranged the pillows on the bed. A guest favorite, the Blueberry Room was painted in the original blue with white accents and a four-poster bed covered with a blue print counterpane. The fireplace, flanked by darker blue armchairs, was original to the house, and a lace-curtained window looked out on the circle driveway with a view of the peach orchard. There was something special about the Blueberry Room that people enjoyed. Except for now when Valery’s reaction to Mikey’s name irked her.
“Did you even remember?”
“Of course I did,” Valery snapped. She tossed her cleaning cloth aside, grabbed the vacuum cleaner and flipped the switch, filling the room with noise.
That’s the way it always was with her family. Silence. Don’t talk about the fact that Michael was alive, that he still had birthdays, that the anniversary of his abduction came around with painful regularity. If they didn’t discuss him, fragile Julia wouldn’t fly to pieces. She wouldn’t fall into another depression and forget to eat or dress or pay her bills.
Julia grabbed the Windex and headed into the bathroom, where she scrubbed the already clean mirror with a vengeance.
Valery stopped the noisy vacuum and came into the bathroom. “I saw Gary Plummer at Pico de Gallo last night.”
A change of topic. Naturally. “Okay.”
“He asked about you. I think he’s interested.”
“What? In me? No. Gary and I are friends from grade school. Don’t be dumb.”
“Dumb? Just because I want my sister to open up to the world and be happy again.”
What she really meant was that she wanted Julia to forget she’d had a son and stop waiting for him to come home. “Don’t, Valery.”
“Why not? Tell me that much. You’ve shut yourself off from everyone.”
“I’m with people every day.”
Valery scoffed. “That’s business. Guests who come and go. I’m talking about a personal life.”
“Like yours?” Julia wanted to suck the words back inside. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled-for.”
Valery’s lower lip trembled. “I had a couple of drinks last night. Stop making a federal case out of it.”
Julia pulled her into a hug. “Hey. Want me to do your toenails later?”
“Would you?” Valery returned the hug with enthusiasm and then huffed a short laugh and pulled away. “I’m such a pushover.”
Which was exactly the problem. Valery was too nice. Too Southern-girl-accommodating so that men who couldn’t even spell gentlemen took advantage of her. Julia had never understood why her sister thought so little of herself or why she chose the kind of men who misused her. They’d been raised by the same parents and as the younger sibling, Valery was the favorite. She should have been confident and strong. Instead, she was a rug for men to walk on, and Jed the jerk was only the latest in a long line of creeps Valery had allowed to make her miserable.
“I found another marble this morning,” she said as a peace offering. No point in pushing the topic closest to her heart. No one wanted to listen.
“Really?”
Julia took the stone from her pocket. “Looks similar to the others.”
“Where did you find this one?”
“On the rug under Bingo.”
They both glanced at the Aussie sprawled like an ink spill on the gleaming heart-pine hallway. His tail thumped. Bingo wasn’t allowed in the guest rooms, but that didn’t keep him from following his owner from room to room.
“Do you still think he’s bringing them inside?”
“He must be digging them up somewhere on the property. What other explanation could there be?”
Valery wiggled her fingers beside her head and grinned. “Ghosts?”
“Now you sound like the Sweat twins. If this old place had ghosts, wouldn’t someone have seen one by now or had some sort of supernatural experience?” Someone besides me, the nut job who hears children laughing.
“Maybe they have and were afraid to tell us.”
She was right about that. “Have you ever seen or heard anything?”
“I’ve had the creepies a few times as if someone was watching me, especially in the carriage house.”
The old carriage house was creepy but not because of ghosts. “Because we haven’t done a thing to it. The cellar’s the same way. Once we clean out the spiderwebs and all that ancient junk and start the remodel into more guest rooms, the creepies will disappear.”
“Oh, you’re no fun at all. I would love to have a ghost or two to make things interesting around here. Haunted inns attract crowds.”
Which is one of the reasons I don’t tell you everything. “I like things the way they are. Peaceful and quiet.”
“No excitement in your blood. I swear you are not related to me. Give me bright lights and party time. Give me Vegas and fast cars and hot men.” Valery spun toward the window and stopped. “Like that one. Holy guacamole! Come here, Julia. Check this out.”
“I don’t have any more guests on the log for today.” But she crossed to the window anyway. “Oh.”
