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“Somebody might have used it by mistake. Say, when it was being charged?”
Jensen’s eyebrows drew together, and he looked over at the recliner and the phone chargers attached to an outlet nearby. “What do you mean?” he asked.
Vera broke in, “This is ridiculous! Jensen obviously has never even heard of Trudie Crenshaw. And I never met her. Or her husband, not even when Didi was married to him.” She stood abruptly and turned to Remmi. “I don’t even know why you’re here. On some kind of wild-goose chase. Trying to punish me because I wouldn’t let you run wild like your mother did. Let me tell you,” she said, winding up, “you’re lucky I raised you during those formative years when you were a teenager. It was me.” She thumped her chest with her hand, and the little cross danced. “I was the one who saved you from a life of sin and debauchery.”
“Mom, whoa,” Jensen said, half-embarrassed.
Remmi’d had enough. “How? With your pseudo-Christianity? Your holier-than-thou attitude?”
“Shame on you!” Vera declared. “Shame on you, Remmi! Who put a roof over your head? Who cooked for you, cleaned for you? Saw that you found the Lord? And did we get a dime for our trouble, or even a ‘thank you’ from you for taking you in when you had no one? No!”
She was nearly spitting now, the venom that had been seeping through her veins for years finally spewing.
“Someone helped Trudie write that book,” Remmi pointed out calmly. “Someone who knew my mother inside and out. Someone who grew up with her.”
“Not me. I never wanted to think about Didi again!”
Remmi said, “When I lived here, you brought her up all the time. Just so you could tell me how awful she was. You never missed a chance to put her down.”
“No.”
“Yeah, Mom. You did,” Jensen broke in quickly. “You still do. You’ve always hated her.”
“Not hate.” Vera shook her head rapidly. “No, no, no.”
“Well, what do you call it then?” her son demanded.
The question stopped Vera cold. “You didn’t know Didi! You don’t understand what it was like for me. I was the one who was responsible. I was the one who got good grades. I didn’t lie or smoke or drink, do drugs, run around, or anything. Mom and Dad could depend on me, but Edie—that’s what we called Edwina back then, before she adopted that ridiculous name!—Edie just took everything she wanted, did what she wanted, it didn’t matter who she hurt. Mom. Dad. Me. Billy. Her best friends. She was just horrid!”
Gathering herself, her face a mask of disgust, Vera went on, “Edie stole other girls’ boyfriends and never thought a thing about it. Didn’t matter if it was her best friend. How she was so popular, I’ll never know. Well, with the boys, that was a no-brainer. They all loved fun-loving Easy Edie. But the girls? Why in the world she was popular with the girls when she was forever stabbing them in their backs, sneaking out with their boyfriends, doing . . . doing immoral things . . .” Vera glared straight at her niece. “It’s time for you to take off those rose-colored blinders and see your mother for what she really was: a wicked, wicked girl. Pure evil.”
“Wow.” Jensen just stared at his mother.
Vera’s eyes sparked with pent-up hatred and jealousy. “Okay. So it’s out there. No, I didn’t like her. She is a . . . a Jezebel!”
“Was,” Noah said. “Not ‘is.’” He stared hard at Vera. “Do you know what happened to her? If she’s still alive?”
Remmi didn’t move. Held her breath. For a second, it seemed as if the air had been sucked out of the tiny room.
When Vera seemed to be at a loss for words, Remmi whispered, “She’s dead, isn’t she?”
“I don’t know,” Vera said, coming back to herself. With a little less fire, she added, “I really don’t. But I would assume that since no one has heard from her in all this time, she’s gone.” She let out a slow breath as if trying to find her equanimity again. “You shouldn’t grieve too much if she is gone, Remmi, because she wasn’t a good person, I think you know that. It’s not for me to judge, of course, I leave that to the Father, but . . . oh, well . . . it doesn’t matter.”
“It does. It matters a lot,” Remmi argued, unable to sit still and listen, to just take it about Didi.
Now, the baby was no longer babbling but starting to cry.
Jensen was on his feet in an instant and heading down the hallway.
Remmi wasn’t finished. “And don’t lie to me about you not judging her. You judged her every moment of her life, just like you do everyone.”
“I–I do not!”
“What do you have to do with the book?” Noah asked her, apparently trying to get the conversation back on track.
“Nothing—I don’t know anything—”
“Give me a break.” Remmi jumped to her feet and crossed the faded carpet in two strides, kicking a plastic puzzle piece out of the way. “You talked to Trudie, gave her information on Mom, and—”
