“I was her grandfather. It was my job to spoil her.”
“Yeah, and I should’ve assigned you to laundry duty. Getting the clay out of Lark’s clothes was a major PITA. I threw out several of her T-shirts before the sessions ended.” To Quinn she said, “Life went into warp speed once Lark discovered activities. My daughter never sat still. The original busy bee.”
“Like me,” Quinn volunteered. The pleasure on Rae’s features was infectious, and he smiled. “I like to keep busy. It’s one of the things I had in common with Lark.”
On any other day, the remark would’ve given Rae pause. Like the first streak of lightning announcing the incoming storm. Signaling the need to take cover.
Today, however, the past—and its secrets—were far from mind.
A buoyancy overtook Rae’s mood. As did a dawning awareness. For the first time since the funeral, she was discussing Lark easily. Without the sharp sting of regret or the hard pull of grief.
With only affection.
Quinn bounced on his heels. “Can we go outside? See if the lights work? They must look incredible at night.”
A rumble erupted from Connor’s stomach. “Let’s eat first.”
Chapter 15
The trees slumbered in winter hiatus. Bare-armed, they were unable to hide the damage.
Lengths of electrical wiring drooped from the branches. Nearest the house, a string tapped aimlessly against its tree trunk, dislodged by high winds or busy squirrels. The second tree was a taller maple. Rae anxiously peered up at the limbs. In the past, she never stopped for long to study the lighting that represented her mother’s final burst of creativity. Doing so was too difficult.
Her heart fell. “They’re in worse shape than I’d realized.” Many of the oval-and star-shaped lights were broken.
“They do look bad,” Quinn agreed, disappointed.
“I feel awful. I don’t know how many times I’ve walked by without noticing.”
“You forgot about them, that’s all.”
They’d come outside through the mudroom. Most of the snow had melted, thanks to last night’s rain. Her father, still near the house, was shoveling the last of the slush from the walk.
Rae gestured toward the deck. “See the switch, near the sliding glass doors?” she asked Quinn. “Go ahead and try them.”
Nothing happened. Connor, walking past, muttered choice words. There was no missing that Rae’s disappointment paled beside his.
On the third tree, a cord hung limply. Connor reached up and hooked it back into place. “Forgive me, Hester.” He regarded the moon riding above the cloudless night. “You spent weeks mapping out your twinkly lights. You never got a chance to finish, but they sure were pretty. I’m a shit for letting your inspiration go to seed.”
“Language.” Rae patted his back. “Mom understands. Life got in the way.”
“Your mother put a lot of thought into the design. All those different hues. Like fireflies leading from the house to the barn. All that trouble, and for what? We should’ve noticed they were falling apart. If Hester were here, she’d pitch a fit.”
In silent agreement, Rae winced. Her mother’s temper hadn’t flared often. Only when her art was the point of contention. She’d imposed strict rules governing when her family was permitted inside the studio. The only time Rae broke the rule—out of boredom on a lazy summer day—she’d touched a sculptural collage in progress. Her mother had blown sky-high.
If they couldn’t get around to repairing the lights, Hester would’ve preferred they were taken down.
“Sorry, Mom.” Rae sent an apologetic glance at the moon. “We screwed up.”
From the back deck, Quinn said, “We should fix them.” He kept flipping the switch, as if repeated attempts would produce a better outcome. “We’ve got lots of supplies in the basement. More than enough. Connor, do you know how they’re supposed to go up? If you don’t, let’s wing it.”
“There’s no need—I have my wife’s schematic. She was a perfectionist. The design is as detailed as an architectural rendering.” Connor chuckled. “Hester was also big on overkill. It’s a wonder she didn’t sketch in leaves on the trees.”
Quinn hurried down the steps. “Where’s the schematic?”
“In my nightstand.”
“That’s great! Maybe when we finish, I can bring a friend over to see them.”
Friend? What friend? Rae exchanged a curious glance with her father. Not once since moving in had the boy mentioned anyone from school.