The legend, according to locals, was that with her charms, Evanora had bewitched T .J. to build the house on sacred land belonging to her family. And once the job was almost done, she turned him out and cursed him. In retribution, he set fire to the house that turned the grand staircase to ash and left a stench of misfortune for decades to come. And so it had sat unfinished for nearly two hundred years—until it was turned into a historic landmark and slated for refurbishment.
Sadie dropped off the zucchini bread with coriander seed, which would help Bill see the hidden worth in things, and jars of honey butter and boysenberry jam. She swore Old Bailer whispered to her as she drove away, but she couldn’t make out the words.
And then, because her day hadn’t been strange enough, she nearly had a heart attack as she approached her house not twenty minutes later. There, balanced on the top rung of a twelve-foot ladder, stood Gigi.
Sadie slammed her foot on the accelerator and screeched into the driveway. When she heard Sadie’s door slam shut, Gigi looked down and wobbled, her gloved hands full of leaves and muck from the gutters.
“Gigi!” Sadie half shouted, heart pounding and heat climbing up her neck. “Get down from there. I can hire someone to do that!”
“Fiddlesticks,” was all Gigi said. “I’m almost done.”
Sadie, heart now firmly in her throat, held the ladder for the next ten minutes, knowing better than to try to convince Gigi to do anything. Already there were piles of trimmings and leaves scattered around the yard. Gigi was obsessive about lawn maintenance the way Sadie was about her garden.
When her grandmother was on solid ground again, Sadie hugged her hard. “Could you please never do that again?”
“No need to make my problem someone else’s,” Gigi said in a businesslike tone. “And the answer is no. I remember once, your grandad came home after I’d spent hours working on the yard. I’d even used a pair of kitchen shears to trim the grass in places. He took one look and suggested it needed a little more. So, I took gasoline and poured it all over the grass and lit it on fire. He never said another word about the yard again.”
Sadie made a small noise, thinking of her grandmother setting fire to the grounds. Of course she would.
“Now let’s go in. I’ve got chicken for Abby.”
Homemade dog food, another of Gigi’s specialties. Heaven forbid her Abby have anything as common as store-bought dog food.
“Okay, but just leave the piles. I’ll put them in bags later. What’s this?” she added when she spotted a can of paint and a drop cloth in the entryway.
“I’m going to touch up the baseboards. They’re unfit to be seen.” Seeing Sadie’s look, she said, “The moment I’m useless is the day I’d rather die.”
“Are we expecting company?” Sadie asked. It felt like Gigi was preparing for something.
“I’ve let this house fall into disrepair,” Gigi said, pouring boiling water over instant coffee as she turned the burner off on the chicken.
Sadie glanced around the immaculate kitchen and spotless floors but didn’t argue.
“Now, come out back and have a cigarette with me,” Gigi said.
“Oh, um, I forgot to tell you,” Sadie started to say, but it was too late. Gigi had opened the screen door, and Bambi started whining.
“What crock of crap do you think you’re cooking up?” Gigi demanded, staring at the dog and then at Sadie.
“You’re always taking in strays!” Sadie argued as she opened the gate and Bambi bounded out, gluing himself enthusiastically to her side.
Gigi laughed, lighting up one of her Virginia Slims 120’s and sinking back into her rocker. Abby, claws scrabbling on the deck, jumped up onto her lap trying to get away from Bambi.
“Alright, you little pissant,” Gigi said, her rumbling laugh softening the words. “Did I ever tell you about the chicken I adopted when I was a girl?”
Sadie shook her head, even though she’d heard the story a dozen times. She’d lie every time if it meant hearing Gigi’s stories told in that gravelly, bullfrog voice of hers. She listened raptly as Gigi told her about the chicken that waited for her after school every day and how her father had threatened to kill it for dinner. Gigi, in turn, had threatened to cook her father for dinner.
“Café made it through unscathed?” Sadie asked absentmindedly in the quiet that followed.
“Gail’s got it all under control. It’s a good thing you left when you did. Now you mind telling me what in God’s name happened?”