“We were talkin’ about whether any of us hear Granny Annie’s voice in our heads,” Harper answered.
Dana came in through the kitchen. “Back door was open, so I didn’t walk all the way around to the front. I heard Granny’s voice all the time before she died. If I was going to mess up, she’d be there telling me what to do. I love it when it happens,” Dana answered.
“Harper, did you ever hear Dad’s voice after he died?” Tawny asked.
She shook her head. “I did at the funeral, though.”
“Really?” Tawny asked.
“I came in late, sat on the back pew of the church, and left. I didn’t walk past the casket,” Harper said softly. “I was also at your high school graduation.”
“Got any regrets about not letting anyone know about that?” Zed asked.
“Not a single one,” Harper answered. “I visit his grave when I’m in the area. Sometimes if I have the money, I bring flowers.”
Zed laid a hand on her arm. “That’s a good thing that you do, child.”
“You ever wish Granny Annie had a grave?” Tawny’s eyes filled with tears at the thought of Harper being that close and no one had even acknowledged her presence. She would have felt so alone—much like Tawny did when her mother turned her back on her.
“I’d like to visit her, but then again, if I go to the lake and sit on that big rock—well, that’s as good as a grave,” Zed said with a nod. “I take her ashes with me some nights just so she’ll be close to me.”
“What are they in, Uncle Zed?” Harper asked.
“A little wooden box that looks a lot like a cigar box. I keep them on my dresser and that way she’s not far from me,” he answered.
Brook carried two big cups of tea across the floor. “I hear her voice in my head, too. I was wishin’ I was old enough to date that sexy boy at school the other day, and Granny Annie popped into my head and said, ‘That boy ain’t nothin’ but trouble.’ And I wanted to argue with her, but the bell rang.” She backed out of the café, and the door slammed behind her.
“I wish Granny would’ve given me that warnin’,” Tawny said.
“Why?” Harper asked.
“Long story I’m not sure I want to tell.”
“Well, then let’s make Harper tell us the story about what happened down at the lake last night.” Zed’s old eyes glittered in amusement.
Tawny jerked her head around to stare at her sister. “You went to the lake and didn’t even invite us?”
“I damn sure didn’t want you or Dana to be there with me,” Harper said. “I wanted peace and quiet, not another argument with y’all.”
“Maybe we should be visitin’ about that boy that you talked to about his problems, Miz Tawny?” Zed grinned.
“It wasn’t nothin’,” Tawny protested, but the way they were all staring said that they didn’t believe her. “Okay, okay, it was something, but it wasn’t anything between us. He just needed a stranger to talk to, and I was there.” She went on to tell them what had happened with Tony Richman and exactly what she’d told him.
“Good advice,” Dana said with a nod.
Tawny could hardly believe that her oldest sister had said something nice about her. She wanted to ask her to repeat it so that she’d know for a fact she’d heard right, but before she could say a word, Zed spoke up.
“Now it’s your turn.” Zed turned to Harper.
“I went to the big rock that was Granny’s favorite spot. While I was there, Wyatt came by. He asked me out and I turned him down,” she said bluntly.
“There was something between you and Wyatt way back when y’all were teenagers. Why wouldn’t you go out with him now?” Tawny asked.
“I’m not ready to rekindle that fire. I may not ever be,” Harper said. “Besides, this is my life, not yours.”
“It was all your fault that Mother wouldn’t let me come visit anymore.” Tawny sighed loudly. “She told me that Granny Annie was too old to put up with me and that Dana was grown and had a job so she couldn’t come.”
“Hey, don’t blame me for what Mother decided.” Harper’s tone went cold.
Zed’s expression turned from happy to sad in an instant. “It broke your granny Annie’s heart when you girls couldn’t come back. She looked forward to that month all year and planned for it like a little girl does for her birthday party.”
Harper pushed her chair back and carried her tea glass to the kitchen. “If it’s okay with you, Uncle Zed, I’m going to my cabin for a short nap.” Her voice cracked.
“Sure thing. Sleep as long as you can,” Zed said. “Don’t set an alarm. If you aren’t awake, Tawny can help out. We won’t have much of a supper rush anyway, since everyone has checked out of their cabins.”
“Thank you.” Harper escaped, but Tawny saw her wipe her cheeks as she hurried to her cabin.
After the café was cleaned up that evening, Zed went to his little efficiency apartment in the back of the store. He poured himself a glass of elderberry wine from the last bottle he and Annie had made the year before, and then he put a DVD of the first season of The Golden Girls into the player. He sat down in his recliner, picked up the remote, and laid his hand on the arm of the matching chair right beside his.
“We had us a good day, Annie. Didn’t have a spoonful of dressin’ left after the lunch rush and only had one piece of pumpkin pie. I brought it home and put it in the refrigerator. I’ll have it for a night snack like you would. I’m watchin’ Blanche tonight because she reminds me of you. Full of sass and spunk, but she won’t never be as pretty as you. So don’t go gettin’ jealous. The girls weren’t as hateful to each other tonight. It’s like pullin’ hen’s teeth to get them to be civil. But I think we’re makin’ progress.”
He pushed a button on the remote and chuckled at Dorothy and Sophia’s argument. “Kids and their mamas. I wonder what it was that set Retha off after that summer. I bet Harper went home and told her that she’d rather live with you.
“You don’t think so?” He patted the arm of the chair. “It’s not all water under the bridge, to my mind. Harper and Wyatt are talkin’ to each other. I think they got a little chemistry back up between them. They’d make a good pair, don’t you think? I know. I know. I shouldn’t put the cart before the horse, but they would and you know it. I wish you was sittin’ in this chair for real. God, I miss you so much.”
He turned down the volume and looked up at the ceiling. “I hear you loud and clear. I promise I won’t interfere—well, not too much, anyway. Sometimes folks need a little push. But I’ll go at it easy like, I promise. But I got to admit that it’s good to have them all home again where they belong. Poor little things. One who never had any support from her daddy, and the other two with a raw deal on their mama. But I’ll fix it so you can rest easy, Annie, I promise.”
At nine thirty he got up out of his chair, groaned as he straightened his back, and got the pie from the little dorm-size refrigerator, though he’d never have called it that. “A bite for me and one for you,” he said as he went back to the recliner.