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“He is. I’ll do the same for him next month when he attends a family reunion in Iowa before going on to Europe to hike with some buddies.”
“Sounds like a lot more fun than planning a funeral,” George commented.
“I admit I wasn’t too excited about getting that assignment, but now I’m glad I had the opportunity,” she told him. “Going through Phoebe’s stuff—all the cans of fruit and preserves and other food she put up, the sheet music she collected, the keepsakes and the scrapbooks she made of her childhood—taught me quite a bit about her.”
“Did she keep a journal?” Dinah asked.
“She kept a lot of them. I found a whole trove under the bed when I started on her bedroom three days ago. Whenever I take a break from packing, I read a little more about what it was like for her growing up in Coyote Canyon before her parents had running water and electricity.”
“What happened to your arm?” George asked, catching sight of her stitches. The cut was healing so well, she no longer used a bandage to cover it, but she would’ve done so to come here tonight had she thought of it.
Talulah looked down as though it was the first time she’d seen the stitches, too, as she struggled to formulate a reply. “Um... Someone threw a rock.”
“And it hit you?” Dinah said.
“It shattered the window at Phoebe’s, and a piece of glass landed in my arm.”
“No kidding!” George said. “When was that?”
“A few days after I returned to town,” she mumbled.
“That’s terrible!” Dinah exclaimed, taking her wrist to get a better look. “Does your mother know?”
Talulah shook her head. “I haven’t told her. With Phoebe passing away, and Debbie having the new baby, I didn’t want to worry her.”
“Who would do something like that?” George asked, obviously appalled.
Talulah tried not to look at Averil, who was putting ice in two glasses and acting as though she wasn’t paying attention. “I don’t know. It’s okay, though, really. It’s healing.”
George’s eyebrows shot up high on his bald head. “That’s not okay at all! I hope you called the cops.”
“No.”
“Why not?” he demanded.
Talulah cleared her throat. “Whoever did it probably didn’t realize how badly it could hurt me. They just...picked up a rock and threw it out of...you know...rage and frustration.”
“Rage?Who would be that angry with you?” Dinah asked and seemed to realize the answer to her own question the second it was out of her mouth. “Charlie?” she yelled, calling her son into the kitchen.
He poked his head into the room. “What?”
Dinah gestured at Talulah’s arm. “Please tell me you didn’t throw the rock that hurt her.”
“No,” he said with a scowl. “Of course I didn’t.”
“I sincerely hope not,” Dinah said, visibly relieved.
Charlie shot Averil a look that suggested his mother had asked the wrong child, but Dinah didn’t pick up on it and was instantly distracted when Mitch came running into the kitchen. “Grandma! Grandma! I found a pincher bug!”
Dinah’s expression warmed the instant she saw her grandson. “Did you catch it?”
“I tried.” He wrinkled his nose. “It got away.”
“Well, I promise you there are plenty more where that one came from.” With a chuckle, she ruffled his hair. “This kid loves bugs,” she told Talulah.
“Hi, Mitch,” Talulah said, and he gave her a quick, distracted wave before running off—presumably to find another pincher bug.
Voices in the entry indicated that other people had arrived. From what she could hear, Talulah guessed it was more family. No one had bothered to ring the bell. Charlie had two older brothers and two older sisters who’d been married and starting families when she and Averil graduated from high school. Back then, some of the Gerhart siblings still lived in Coyote Canyon, but others had moved to various parts of Montana. If she remembered correctly, one had moved to California.
