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“Well, I can show you one grand part of my old house.”
“It’s all grand.”
“Laying it on pretty thick. It’s just an old ranch.”
She reached out to touch the lace doily under one of the lamps, before curling her fingers back into her palm as if it was too precious to touch. I was pretty sure one of my aunts had actually made it with an absurdly small needle-like hook.
An old memory of Laverne sitting on the porch with thread on her lap as she and my mom drank lemonade in the summer filtered through my brain.
I cleared my throat. “Anyway, after I moved out, my mom convinced my dad to knock down the wall between my old room and the bathroom.” I walked down the hallway toward the back of the house and took a left. “Just down here.”
The earthy scent of plants and the sweet blooms of orchids filled the hallway.
I looked over my shoulder to see if she was still following me, but she was waylaid by the photo wall. “Helena?”
“What? Oh, sorry.” She hurried down the hallway then backed up. “Wait. Is that you?”
“Probably a few of them are me.”
She rolled her eyes. “Never mind.”
I laughed and went to where she was standing. “Which one?”
She pointed to a grainy photo of me at six with my Taylor guitar. The guitar was nearly as big as I was. “Yeah, that’s me. Still have the guitar.”
“Really?”
I shrugged. “It was my cousin’s guitar. He thought it would make him look cool, but he didn’t want to actually learn how to play it. Just liked to hold it to get chicks.”
She pushed the drooping strap of her dress back in place. “Did you want to do the same?”
“Damn straight.” I waggled my eyebrows. “I actually learned how to play it though. Works even better.” I laughed. “C’mon. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
She tipped the bottom of one of the frames to straighten it then hurried after me.
I tried not to be charmed by the fact that she was enjoying a childhood photo of me, but she sure was making it tough.
“Which room is your sister’s?”
“The orchid room.”
Helena smiled. “Is that what she calls it? Why? Is it purple?”
I grinned. “No. My ma was so pissed that Zoe moved to California to paint that she converted her bedroom into a greenhouse off the back of the house.”
“Oh.” She blinked and her mouth opened then closed. “I don’t know what to say to that.”
“Neither did Zoe.” I laughed. “But there’s a box of her clothes in Hayes’ old room. He was the last one to leave the roost. It’s the only room that hasn’t been converted. Now it’s mostly Elvis’s room.”
Confusion knitted her brows. “Elvis? Do your parents love the deceased singer?”
I tipped my head back and laughed.
She stopped in the middle of the hall. “What’s so funny? Lots of people have shrines to him. I’ve seen things on television.”
“You’re fucking adorable.”
She crossed her arms and that damn strap fell down again. My laughter faded as I walked back down to meet her. My boots sounded damn loud in the narrow space.
