The Guests on South Battery by Karen White Page B

parents during that time of my life was that there was no photographic evidence of my adolescence to haunt me into adulthood.
    I waved them over and watched as Sarah smiled and gurgled at her big sister while JJ squirmed and reached for Alston, his girl crush. He had a thing for blond women and had been known to reach forward in his stroller at attractive strangers, pinching his fingers open and closed, demanding that they hold him. I tried to tell him it was cute while he was a baby but probably wouldn’t be as tolerated when he got older. He didn’t seem to care.
    â€œHi, girls.” I stood. “Did you have a good day at school?”
    Nola leaned down to place a kiss on each baby’s cheek before taking over the swing pushing. “It was great until pickup. Ashley Martin has her license now, so her parents bought her a Mercedes convertible. She made a big show of blocking our exit from the parking lot by putting the top down. Alston’s mom was
so
annoyed. We told her that her SUV was bigger and should just run over Ashley and her stupid car.”
    â€œIt must be hard being fifteen,” I said with a smile. Although not as hard as it was being a fifteen-year-old girl’s father. It was about to get interesting around here when it was time for Nola to start driving. And dating. I wondered if I should go ahead and schedule family counseling to make sure there was a spot open for us.
    â€œAnd this is Lindsey Farrell. She lives over on Queen Street in the yellow Victorian.”
    She shook my hand and looked me in the eye. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Trenholm. My mom says you probably won’t remember her, but she went to USC with you. You were in the same art history class, I think.”
    â€œWhat was her maiden name?”
    â€œVeronica Hall. You did a project together on early American painters your senior year.”
    I thought for a moment, only having a vague memory of the name and that project. “I don’t think I remember her, but I still have my yearbooks, so I’ll look her up. But tell her I said hello.”
    â€œI will.” She smiled and I saw how striking she was. She had an almost elfin face surrounded by a cloud of black hair, and dark brown eyes that appeared black. But it was her smile that transformed her face from merely pretty to beautiful. It did nothing to disguise the aura of sadnessthat seemed to permeate the air around her. I looked away, not wanting to see more than what I was prepared to.
    â€œHi, Meghan!” Nola shouted. Meghan looked up and waved back. Nola was fascinated with the older girl’s passion for her chosen field of study, and hadn’t even yawned during a lengthy explanation of the history of cisterns—both their construction and usage. I’d seen her sit at the edge of the hole in perfect silence while watching Meghan work, then taking an inordinate amount of time studying each small artifact that was placed on the sheet. I didn’t understand the fascination, seeing it as the equivalent of watching grass grow, but as long as Nola’s interest didn’t slow down the excavation, I left them alone.
    â€œMrs. Houlihan baked brownies,” I said. “Flourless for you, and then regular ones with taste for the rest of us. They’re on the stove if you and your friends want a snack.”
    â€œMaybe I should try a flourless one,” Alston said as she swayed with a content JJ, his chubby fingers wrapped around strands of her long blond hair.
    â€œUnless you’re trying to punish yourself, I wouldn’t,” I suggested.
    She giggled, then carefully put JJ back in his swing. He began snorting his disappointment until Nola gave him a push on the swing and he was back to his burbling self.
    â€œWe have an algebra test tomorrow, so we’ll bring our snack up to my room to help us study. Try not to disturb us, okay?”
    â€œOkay,” I said. “The new nanny will be