“We need to figure out if Dottie is still alive.”
“How do we do that?”
“Google.” Kiersten rose from the couch and grabbed her laptop from the kitchen counter. “If she died anytime in the last twenty years, it should be easy to find.”
She sat down and opened her laptop. Then she began to type, saying the words out loud for Piper as she typed them.
“Dorothy Davis Obituary.”
Her heart fell as pages and pages of listings came up. “I wish she had a more unique name.”
“We need to go through them all,” Piper said.
“That’s easier said than done.” Kiersten chuffed a sigh that lifted the hair on her forehead. “Notfinding her obituary could mean wearen’t looking hard enough. Or it could mean there is no obituary to find because she’s still alive and well and living who knows where. And maybe she divorced Dickie, got remarried, has a new name.”
“Then we need to keep reading the diaries,” Piper said.
Kiersten glanced at the clock on the microwave. “Garrett and the boys will be home any minute.”
Piper retrieved her purse from the floor beside the couch. “I ordered pizza before we left for the shelter and then completely forgot about it. It’s probably been sitting on my front porch for hours.”
“How about this.” Kiersten stood. “You read the diary out loud while I make dinner. You guys can eat with us.”
“Are you sure?” Piper shot her a skeptical look. “Sounds like you’re getting the short end of that deal.”
“Look, I know you don’t want to hear this.” Kiersten opened her pantry and removed a bag of potatoes. “But Aspen’s Table of Sustenance actually works. I’ve done my meal prep, planned my menu two weeks in advance, and ordered all my groceries online.”
Piper crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow. “How Betty Crocker of you.”
“I’d rather be Betty Crocker than Kiersten who used to run to the grocery store five times a week andstillhad nothing for dinner,” she said, pulling a potato peeler from a drawer.
“So what are you making tonight?” Piper asked. “Filet mignon and a soufflé?”
“No, but I can whip up mashed potatoes and stick a pork tenderloin and some chicken nuggets in the oven.”
“Fine.” Piper pulled up a stool at the kitchen island. “I’ll be the Audible version of Dottie’s diary while you cook. I can’t say no to mashed potatoes.”
She opened Dottie’s diary and began to read.
Chapter Sixty-Six
Dottie
September 27, 1965
I violated every rule on The List. When Dickie returned home from work today, I did not put a bow in my hair or make any effort to appear attractive and “fresh.” I did not attempt to be gay and interesting. Instead, I accosted Dickie the moment he entered the house.
“We need to talk,” I demanded.
He seemed to expect this. Had they coordinated it? Was Peggy supposed to break the news first, to soften me up, and then he’d follow up with the hard sell?
“Let me change first,” he said abruptly.
I waited on the back porch in a rocking chair. Peggy made a gin and tonic for him. The drink sat on the little wicker table, sweating beads of moistureonto my mother’s monogrammed linen cocktail napkin, a silver bowl of mixed nuts placed thoughtfully beside it.
I heard his footsteps and glanced inside. She said something I couldn’t hear, and his laughter filled the room. The knot in my stomach twisted a little tighter.
He came out on the porch and sat down in the other rocking chair.
