“Do you want us to give you a moment, to change?” Rising, she took a gander at Rae’s shirt.
“We don’t mind,” Jackie added.
“No, I’m all right.”
Opening the foyer closet, Rae grabbed a sweatshirt hanging in back. She pulled it over her head. Whatever Jackie was here to tell her, she couldn’t bear to wait.
Sally placed a protective hand around her daughter’s shoulder. “Honey? Do you want to ask Rae?”
The question was barely out when Griffin’s voice came from the hallway.
“Rae! What are you doing out there? I thought we agreed you’d handle the dishes!”
Tossing a dish towel from hand to hand, Griffin waltzed into the room. “Sis.” He grinned. “Fancy meeting you here.”
Surprise competed with the mild delight on Sally’s features. “Griffin. Hi.”
Whatever the details of his falling-out with his sister, Griffin hadn’t revealed them. Rae did know they hadn’t spoken in some time. A situation he apparently planned to mend, from the look on his face.
Sally beat him to it. As he helped her out of her coat, she said, “I owe you an apology, little brother.” She cast a curious glance at Rae. “Maybe more than one.”
“Save it. I owe you about twenty apologies.”
“For what?”
“All the stuffed animals I took from your closet in high school.”
“You didn’t!”
“Oh yes I did. Rae used them for target practice when Dad took us hunting. No way would she aim at the real furry critters.” He feigned confusion. “Wait. Rae owes you those apologies.”
A moment of levity in the middle of a tense situation. Totally Griffin’s style. It was enough to banish the jitters pinging through Rae’s body.
“Hey, don’t look at me,” she said. “I thought they were your stuffed animals. Castoffs from childhood.”
Jackie, studying her feet until now, hugged a large paper bag close. A bag Rae hadn’t noticed until now.
The girl asked, “Uncle Griffin, what are you talking about?”
He gave her a peck on the forehead. “Antics I pulled on your mother in the long-ago. Never mind, kiddo.” He took her coat. “Are you here to ask Rae?”
“Ask me what?”
“Guys! The women need the house! Let’s watch the Cavs at my place.”
Like buffalo, the men stampeded from the house.
Sally closed the door behind them. “Why do I have the feeling my brother knew we were coming over?”
A feeling Rae shared. Tortoise. A slow-moving creature with superb planning abilities.
Jackie volunteered, “Uncle Griffin asked me to come around now. Didn’t I tell you, Mom?”
Sally released a sigh. “You did not.” Nervously, she assessed the living room. “There’s not enough room here. Rae, I hate to be a bother. Is there somewhere we can spread out?”
They went into Hester’s studio. Anxiety trailed Jackie as she caught sight of the wooden desk—the one Lark had used when working on her crafts. Recently, Connor and Quinn had moved the desk back to where it stood before Lark’s death, near the wall of glass. Beside it, the row of houseplants on Kameko’s much smaller, kid-size table gave the studio a cheery feel.
From the bag, the girl hefted out a large photo album. New, white leather. Next came a large manila envelope, stuffed full. Opening it, Jackie spilled out a host of photos—of Lark.
As a baby, during her toddler years and beyond. Lark cartwheeling across the lawn before Jackie’s house with a group of girls. A snap Connor took last summer, when they walked the farm together. And more photos of Rae hugging her daughter or tickling her—lifting her from a bubble bath. Rimming Lark’s mouth with that first tube of lip gloss in sixth grade. More images of Rae with her daughter than she could count.
Joy and grief tangled inside her. Rae pressed her hand to her heart. As she did, she felt another hand come to rest on her back. Sally’s.
Steadying her, one mother to another, as Jackie bent over her work.
“Uncle Griffin asked your dad for the photos.” Shuffling through the images, Jackie began sorting them into groups. She ran a nervous palm across her short, jagged hair. “Is it okay that I’m making an album for you?” She looked worried then, her eyes darting to Rae’s. “I wanted to make it as a surprise gift, but it’s better this way. I’m making an album for everyone in my family—they get to help. Pick out the photos, how they want them ordered.”