stay
together
.”
My mother and I watched the girls sprint up to the town hall steps. I took
her arm. “You look tired, Mom.”
She waved that idea away. “Not tired.
Just … I don’t know, thinking too much.” She
hesitated, and a strange look came into her eyes, one I’d been seeing more often,
and that worried me. Then it passed like a summer cloud.
“But you! Look at you!” She shed her gracious smile on me. I
felt like a committee meeting she was chairing. Ever since we’d moved to Hawley,
she’d been distant. She always seemed to be deflecting me. And although
she’d been helping me at the Hawley house nearly every day, there had been
something subdued about her. Somehow I felt she was holding back, holding out on me.
Like Nan. The girls had been helping or hindering us every moment, though, so I
hadn’t been able to grill her. Until today.
“
You’ve
been looking better since you moved
back,” she told me. “More like yourself, Reve.”
That annoyed me. “How did you expect me to look after my husband
was murdered, Mom?”
Her eyes flared with an unreadable emotion—not exactly pain, or
shame. Maybe a little of both, mixed in with something elusive. “Oh, honey, I
didn’t mean that.” She hugged me. “Let’s just try to enjoy
the day. They have good weather for it this year. Poured buckets all last fall, I
remember.”
I sighed, decided to let it go for the moment.
We found my dad sitting on the wall outside the town hall, snacking on
apple pie topped with a thick slice of cheddar cheese. Grace and Fai were making gagging
noises, but he was feeding Caleigh a bite from his fork. Unlike my mother, he always
looked as if he had prepared to face the world with care, but something was just a bit
off. He forgot to comb his hair, or his vest was buttoned wrong. But then he’d
smile and his eyes would crinkle and you’d forget any little flaws, his look
bathed you in such kindly warmth. For the fair, he wore a jacket and bow tie, but the
tie was crooked and now dusted with powdered sugar, probably from his breakfast
doughnut. He almost upset his pie on Caleigh’s head when he rose to greet me.
“Sweetheart!” He wrapped me in his arms. “Everything
okay?”
I nodded into his tweedy shoulder.
“Just … watch the girls.”
He looked in my eyes, saw enough to know I was still
troubled. “Of course I will.”
For all his absentminded ways, my father was incredibly observant. So I
left him to shepherd the girls around, and my mother and I went off in search of
treasure. For Mom, it would be interesting old garden tools; for me, maybe an
opportunity to get some answers.
Our first stop was the blueberry cobbler tent. I toyed with the perfectly
sweetened blueberries, the crumbly biscuit. My mother commented again on the fine day,
all the people who’d turned out. Then I plunged in.
“Remember the stories you all used to tell? About the
Revelations.”
The fragrance of apples wafted around us. A woman rolled a red wagon full
of Macouns by. Mom licked her fork speculatively, leaned back in her chair. “Is
that why you moved here? Because of the story of the first Revelation, how she came to
Hawley Five Corners?”
“Not really. I probably wouldn’t have given Hawley one
thought. But Nan … she sent me a note, just after Jeremy died.
Basically commanding me to come here.”
“
Nan
sent you a note?” Her tone was accusing, her
eyes filled with hurt.
“Mom, what’s the big deal?”
She looked down, scraped at her dish again. The sound of the fork on
Styrofoam set my teeth on edge. “Nothing. No big deal. I was
just … surprised, for a minute.”
“I tried to call her yesterday, to invite her to the fair, but you
know she never answers that phone. I tried to talk to her when we went there last week,
but she wouldn’t. Not about why she was insistent we come here. Do you
together
.”
My mother and I watched the girls sprint up to the town hall steps. I took
her arm. “You look tired, Mom.”
She waved that idea away. “Not tired.
Just … I don’t know, thinking too much.” She
hesitated, and a strange look came into her eyes, one I’d been seeing more often,
and that worried me. Then it passed like a summer cloud.
“But you! Look at you!” She shed her gracious smile on me. I
felt like a committee meeting she was chairing. Ever since we’d moved to Hawley,
she’d been distant. She always seemed to be deflecting me. And although
she’d been helping me at the Hawley house nearly every day, there had been
something subdued about her. Somehow I felt she was holding back, holding out on me.
Like Nan. The girls had been helping or hindering us every moment, though, so I
hadn’t been able to grill her. Until today.
“
You’ve
been looking better since you moved
back,” she told me. “More like yourself, Reve.”
That annoyed me. “How did you expect me to look after my husband
was murdered, Mom?”
Her eyes flared with an unreadable emotion—not exactly pain, or
shame. Maybe a little of both, mixed in with something elusive. “Oh, honey, I
didn’t mean that.” She hugged me. “Let’s just try to enjoy
the day. They have good weather for it this year. Poured buckets all last fall, I
remember.”
I sighed, decided to let it go for the moment.
We found my dad sitting on the wall outside the town hall, snacking on
apple pie topped with a thick slice of cheddar cheese. Grace and Fai were making gagging
noises, but he was feeding Caleigh a bite from his fork. Unlike my mother, he always
looked as if he had prepared to face the world with care, but something was just a bit
off. He forgot to comb his hair, or his vest was buttoned wrong. But then he’d
smile and his eyes would crinkle and you’d forget any little flaws, his look
bathed you in such kindly warmth. For the fair, he wore a jacket and bow tie, but the
tie was crooked and now dusted with powdered sugar, probably from his breakfast
doughnut. He almost upset his pie on Caleigh’s head when he rose to greet me.
“Sweetheart!” He wrapped me in his arms. “Everything
okay?”
I nodded into his tweedy shoulder.
“Just … watch the girls.”
He looked in my eyes, saw enough to know I was still
troubled. “Of course I will.”
For all his absentminded ways, my father was incredibly observant. So I
left him to shepherd the girls around, and my mother and I went off in search of
treasure. For Mom, it would be interesting old garden tools; for me, maybe an
opportunity to get some answers.
Our first stop was the blueberry cobbler tent. I toyed with the perfectly
sweetened blueberries, the crumbly biscuit. My mother commented again on the fine day,
all the people who’d turned out. Then I plunged in.
“Remember the stories you all used to tell? About the
Revelations.”
The fragrance of apples wafted around us. A woman rolled a red wagon full
of Macouns by. Mom licked her fork speculatively, leaned back in her chair. “Is
that why you moved here? Because of the story of the first Revelation, how she came to
Hawley Five Corners?”
“Not really. I probably wouldn’t have given Hawley one
thought. But Nan … she sent me a note, just after Jeremy died.
Basically commanding me to come here.”
“
Nan
sent you a note?” Her tone was accusing, her
eyes filled with hurt.
“Mom, what’s the big deal?”
She looked down, scraped at her dish again. The sound of the fork on
Styrofoam set my teeth on edge. “Nothing. No big deal. I was
just … surprised, for a minute.”
“I tried to call her yesterday, to invite her to the fair, but you
know she never answers that phone. I tried to talk to her when we went there last week,
but she wouldn’t. Not about why she was insistent we come here. Do you
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