listened.
“Mom, we have to have a funeral.”
It had to be Kylie speaking. There was a mumbled reply,then Kylie said, “
I’ll
do it, then. Craig is no freaking good. I don’t even know if he cares. I gotta go. If I’m going to plan everything, then I’ll have to get started.”
Interesting. So by Kylie’s reckoning, Kathy and Craig’s marriage was not the happy little nest after all. It sounded like Kylie was preparing to leave, and Jaymie felt awkward lingering by the side of the house. If she was caught, it would look like exactly what it was: eavesdropping. Jaymie advanced around to the back door.
Kylie Hofstadter was standing at the open door with Connor, and Mrs. Hofstadter was standing in the mudroom. Kylie whirled around when she saw Jaymie. “What are
you
doing here?” she asked.
“Kylie Marie Hofstadter!” her mother said. “That’s no way to greet someone!”
Strolling up the walk, awkwardly carrying the glass casserole dish, Jaymie considered her words carefully. “I’m so sorry about Kathy, Mrs. Hofstadter. I don’t know if you remember me; I’m Jaymie Leighton, Alan and Joy Leighton’s daughter? Kathy and I used to be friends. We…we had our issues, but I will never forget the fun we had as kids, and how close we once were.”
“Right,” Kylie said. She turned Connor around and sent him scooting toward the pickup with a pat on his bum, all the while glaring at Jaymie. “You have some nerve coming here like this.” Her voice was tight with anger.
Jaymie, trying to ignore Kylie—whose opinion of her had, no doubt, been poisoned by Kathy—moved forward until she could better see Mrs. Hofstadter, who stood in the open door. The years had not been kind to the woman. Always portly but neat and tidy, she was now slatternly, with a dirty housedress on and feet clad in filthy slippers. The smell of organic waste drifted from the house; it was the scent ofhopelessness. Paint was gone from the doorframes, and some of the wood looked like it was rotting out. Jaymie now understood why Kathy had tried to get her mother to sell the farm. If this kept up, the house would fall down around the woman’s ears, and no one would ever know what happened to her.
“Mrs. Hofstadter,” Jaymie said, holding out the casserole. “I just wanted to drop by and bring you this.”
Kylie, who looked like she had been on the verge of leaving before, appeared rooted in place. She was a young woman, not more than twenty-five or -six, but there were dark circles under her eyes and her hair was a rat’s nest. “She doesn’t need your food—freakin’ Leighton charity. Do you think we don’t take care of our mom?” Her voice bubbled with anger and tears.
In the face of so much pain, Jaymie was silent, not trusting her voice to be steady. The tragedy of Kathy’s death was at its most profound right here, right now.
Mrs. Hofstadter took the casserole. “Kylie, enough!” She turned to Jaymie and, water welling in her dull brown eyes, said, “I appreciate you thinking of me. Give my love to your grandma when you see her next. She was always real good to us. And to your mama, of course!”
“Mom and Grandma Leighton always said there were no better hams in the state than Hofstadter farm hams.” It sounded inane in the midst of the family’s tragedy.
“You should leave now,” Kylie said, her hands balled into fists at her side.
“I’ll come back another day for the empty casserole dish, Mrs. Hofstadter,” Jaymie said, turning and walking away. It suddenly occurred to her that she had never thought to ask Mrs. Hofstadter why Kathy had turned against her, and,with Kylie there, there was no talking to her
this
time, but she had an excuse to come back—to pick up the casserole dish. She felt genuinely bad for the woman, who had lost so much, and wanted to help in any way she could. That, her grandmother would say, was what community was all about.
Seven
B ECCA WAS ON the phone to her assistant in
“Mom, we have to have a funeral.”
It had to be Kylie speaking. There was a mumbled reply,then Kylie said, “
I’ll
do it, then. Craig is no freaking good. I don’t even know if he cares. I gotta go. If I’m going to plan everything, then I’ll have to get started.”
Interesting. So by Kylie’s reckoning, Kathy and Craig’s marriage was not the happy little nest after all. It sounded like Kylie was preparing to leave, and Jaymie felt awkward lingering by the side of the house. If she was caught, it would look like exactly what it was: eavesdropping. Jaymie advanced around to the back door.
Kylie Hofstadter was standing at the open door with Connor, and Mrs. Hofstadter was standing in the mudroom. Kylie whirled around when she saw Jaymie. “What are
you
doing here?” she asked.
“Kylie Marie Hofstadter!” her mother said. “That’s no way to greet someone!”
Strolling up the walk, awkwardly carrying the glass casserole dish, Jaymie considered her words carefully. “I’m so sorry about Kathy, Mrs. Hofstadter. I don’t know if you remember me; I’m Jaymie Leighton, Alan and Joy Leighton’s daughter? Kathy and I used to be friends. We…we had our issues, but I will never forget the fun we had as kids, and how close we once were.”
“Right,” Kylie said. She turned Connor around and sent him scooting toward the pickup with a pat on his bum, all the while glaring at Jaymie. “You have some nerve coming here like this.” Her voice was tight with anger.
Jaymie, trying to ignore Kylie—whose opinion of her had, no doubt, been poisoned by Kathy—moved forward until she could better see Mrs. Hofstadter, who stood in the open door. The years had not been kind to the woman. Always portly but neat and tidy, she was now slatternly, with a dirty housedress on and feet clad in filthy slippers. The smell of organic waste drifted from the house; it was the scent ofhopelessness. Paint was gone from the doorframes, and some of the wood looked like it was rotting out. Jaymie now understood why Kathy had tried to get her mother to sell the farm. If this kept up, the house would fall down around the woman’s ears, and no one would ever know what happened to her.
“Mrs. Hofstadter,” Jaymie said, holding out the casserole. “I just wanted to drop by and bring you this.”
Kylie, who looked like she had been on the verge of leaving before, appeared rooted in place. She was a young woman, not more than twenty-five or -six, but there were dark circles under her eyes and her hair was a rat’s nest. “She doesn’t need your food—freakin’ Leighton charity. Do you think we don’t take care of our mom?” Her voice bubbled with anger and tears.
In the face of so much pain, Jaymie was silent, not trusting her voice to be steady. The tragedy of Kathy’s death was at its most profound right here, right now.
Mrs. Hofstadter took the casserole. “Kylie, enough!” She turned to Jaymie and, water welling in her dull brown eyes, said, “I appreciate you thinking of me. Give my love to your grandma when you see her next. She was always real good to us. And to your mama, of course!”
“Mom and Grandma Leighton always said there were no better hams in the state than Hofstadter farm hams.” It sounded inane in the midst of the family’s tragedy.
“You should leave now,” Kylie said, her hands balled into fists at her side.
“I’ll come back another day for the empty casserole dish, Mrs. Hofstadter,” Jaymie said, turning and walking away. It suddenly occurred to her that she had never thought to ask Mrs. Hofstadter why Kathy had turned against her, and,with Kylie there, there was no talking to her
this
time, but she had an excuse to come back—to pick up the casserole dish. She felt genuinely bad for the woman, who had lost so much, and wanted to help in any way she could. That, her grandmother would say, was what community was all about.
Seven
B ECCA WAS ON the phone to her assistant in
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