Page 30 of Taken Away

She walked into the vestibule, leaving the bank of funeral lilies behind as cool, damp air drifted through the open front doors.

Low voices. The rustle of coats. The soft, wet sound of people crying and trying not to. Outside, the steps and sidewalk were lined with neighbors, farmhands, winery staff—a sea of black umbrellas clustered in little knots beneath the drizzle.

A tall, elegant woman glided quietly into Aubrey’s path.

Her soft platinum-blonde bob framed a face that had aged gracefully, and she carried herself with the effortless confidence of someone who had never needed to raise her voice to command a room. A simple strand of pearls rested against her black dress.

“Aubrey Langford?”

Aubrey nodded.

The woman smiled gently and took both of her hands.

“I’m Patsy Jordan,” she said softly, her hand lingering on Aubrey’s arm. “I’ve been Mabel’s best friend for more than fifty years.”

“We grew up together. Shared every milestone life handed us. Through marriages, heartbreak, harvests, and more cups of coffee than I could ever count.”

She smiled softly.

“There wasn’t much one of us did without the other.”

She looked back at Aubrey.

“I held you when you were a few weeks old.”

Aubrey blinked.

“You did?”

Patsy nodded.

“Oh, yes. Your mama couldn’t settle you that afternoon, but Mabel carried you up and down that big front porch until you finally fell asleep.”

She laughed quietly.

“And Harold was right behind her, making the silliest faces imaginable.”

Aubrey could almost picture it.

A baby.

A porch.

A family she’d never known.

“Mabel loved you, dear.”

Her voice caught.

“More than you’ll ever know.”

Before Aubrey could answer, another mourner stepped forward.

Patsy gave her hands one last reassuring squeeze.

“I’m so very glad you came home.”

She’d never belonged anywhere quite like this—not in the string of childhood apartments, not in the polished anonymity of her life up north. But these people had known her before she even knew herself, carrying pieces of her, Anne, and Mabel as if it were the most natural thing in the world.