get it. Thanks, Lena.”
Her aunt stood. “Stay right there. I’m not the one who spent weeks moving. Be right back.”
Which left her alone with Dan. He sat with his legs splayed, the mug cradled in both hands, his elbows resting on his thighs.
“How long did you drive today?” he asked. “Austin’s quite a piece.”
“We broke it up. There’s just so long you can keep a four-year-old cooped up in a vehicle. We left Laramie this morning.”
“Not too bad, then.”
“No.” Which kind of ended the conversation. She wanted to sigh as she realized that she’d lost the basic skill of making small talk. Over the past year, her friends and Hal’s had taken up all the slack on that front, leaving her to join in when she felt like it. She hadn’t filled any gaps or silences.
“Your daughter is cute,” Dan said after a pause. “Adorable. Is she really attached to that teddy bear?”
“Off and on. Not like when she was a baby and she needed a particular blanket or stuffed animal. During the trip, the bear was handy.” At least Vicki had managed more than a single word.
God, she felt so out of place and out of sync. All the weeks of preparation, the long drive, and now she had arrived, and felt as if she’d been cast adrift.
“You ever been here before?” he asked. “I don’t remember seeing you, but I only moved in next door three years ago.”
Lena returned with a mug for Vicki, and the coffeepot to pour fresh for everyone. “Never visited me,” she remarked. “No, I had to fly to Austin to see her.” She placed the pot on an old table and returned to her rocker.
Vicki wondered if she should apologize. Her head was swimming, trying to order things, make sense of everything, and she had no idea what she should say.
“Not that I wanted it any other way,” Lena said, her eyes twinkling. “I got to travel the world. Well, Texas, anyway. I even got to meet the oversize Texas ego.”
Helplessly, Vicki felt a small laugh escape her. “It’s a state of mind, you know.”
“I noticed,” Lena said tartly. “Now, I’m not saying they don’t have a lot to be proud of, but if you ask me, it was really something back there for a while when Texans who’d moved away sent for bags of Texas dirt to put under delivery tables so their babies could be born on Texas soil. And the state issued honorary birth certificates.”
Dan appeared astonished. “For real?”
“Unless I misread the story.” Lena looked at Vicki. “Are they still doing that?”
“I have no idea, honestly. I thought it was just a brief fad when it occurred, and I’m positive the state isn’t in the business of giving honorary birth certificates.”
Lena chuckled. “Well, of course it would turn out to be a Texas-sized story.”
“It’s a good one, though.” Dan smiled. “It probably even grew legs for a while.”
“It grew legs for me,” Lena said. “Now I’m wondering how many times I told that story. I may have a lot of apologizing to do.”
“Don’t bother,” said Dan. “It’s a good yarn, and apparently at least a few people must have sent for Texas dirt.”
“That much was true,” Vicki said. “A few people. Maybe occasionally someone still does it, but only for their own amusement. It doesn’t make a real difference as far as I know.”
Silence fell for a few minutes. Vicki felt uneasy. Surely she ought to have something else to contribute?
Then Dan spoke again. “I think you’ll like living here. It’s a pretty good town, as small towns go. People are friendly. We can’t keep up with a place like Austin for excitement and entertainment, but we have other advantages.”
He rose, putting aside his mug. “I’m going to go now, Lena. Vicki looks exhausted, and we all have a lot to do tomorrow.” He paused in front of Vicki. “I’m glad I finally got to meet you.”
Then he was gone, leaving the two women sitting in silence.
“Did Krys go to sleep okay?” Lena eventually asked.
“Out like a light.”
“Then I suggest you do the same, my girl. You’re starting to look pale. Need help making up your bed?”
“Only if I can’t find the sheets.”
Lena laughed. “I got spares if you need them. Let’s go and settle you.”
Vicki wondered if she’d ever feel settled again, then made up her mind that she would. Compared to the past year, this was a small challenge. Feeling better, she followed her aunt upstairs.
Lena was the bookkeeper for Freitag’s Mercantile. She often joked that there was little as boring in the world as a bookkeeper, unless it was a CPA. Vicki, who found her aunt anything but dull, always smiled or laughed, but she didn’t believe it. Besides, boring jobs sounded awfully good these days. For her part, until Hal’s death, she’d taught kindergarten, but there wasn’t a job available here yet.
Which was fine, she told herself as she fed Krys her breakfast, after Lena departed for a half day. Vicki wanted to spend as much time as possible with Krys, until the girl was truly settled here. In the meantime, Vicki had plenty in savings from insurance and death benefits, plus the money she and Hal had been saving toward a house. She could get by for years if necessary.
She had to deal with the present. Sitting at the table with Krys, who looked a lot perkier today, she said, “How about we set up your bedroom and playroom this morning?”
Krys tilted her head, her blue eyes bright. “Okay. I can tell you where to put everything?”
“Most of it, anyway. We’ll have to see how things fit.”
“Aunt Lena has lots of stuff.”
Vicki nodded guiltily. Lena had assured her there was ample room, and in terms of space, there was. The problem was that this house had accumulated so much over the years that the space was pretty full. With her additions, it was packed.
“We may not be able to get everything just right,” she told her daughter. “We’ll have to see where there’s room.”
Krys nodded and emptied her bowl by drinking the last of the milk from it. Vicki reached over with her napkin to wipe away a milky mustache and a few dribbles.
“Are there kids here?” her daughter asked as they headed upstairs.
“Plenty, I’m sure. Once we get some unpacking done, we’ll go look for some.”
“’Kay. I liked that man. He’s coming back,
