Big Lies in a Small Town - Diane Chamberlain Page 0,145
to college,” I said.
“Good,” Lisa said with a decisive nod. “Exactly what I was hoping to hear. I owe you the rest of that fifty thousand, plus there’s something I didn’t tell you.”
“What?”
“My father specified that if you’d return to school, his estate would pay for your education, regardless of what you decide to study.”
I was speechless, the thrill of her words sinking in. “Oh my God,” I said finally. “I don’t know what to say. Are you sure he was ‘of sound mind’?”
Lisa gave me a genuine smile. “You’re the last beneficiary of my crazy father’s generosity. Use it well.” She got to her feet, looking down at the phone in her hand. “And now I need to run to my office,” she said. “I’d like you to stay and help Oliver straighten up.”
“Sure.” I winced as I got to my own feet. “Go do what you need to do,” I said. “Oliver and I will take care of the gallery.”
At five thirty I was helping the servers carry the last of the trays out to their van when a limousine pulled into the parking lot, the late summer sun glinting off its shiny black finish. I watched the driver get out of the car and reach for the handle of one of the rear doors, but the door flung open before he’d even touched it, and a woman nearly sprang from the car. She was about sixty, maybe older, and her gray hair was chopped short. Ignoring the driver, she walked around the front of the limo and opened the other rear door. My heart began to pound. Somehow, I knew who was in that backseat. I knew it, and I handed the tray I was carrying to one of the servers and walked toward the limousine. By then, the gray-haired woman was helping a much older woman from the limo. The old woman, who was about my height but whose ramrod-straight posture made her appear taller, didn’t look much like the ancient newspaper photographs of Anna Dale, yet I knew without a doubt that was who she was. Her white, chin-length hair was thin, the texture of cotton candy, and she wore small, sparkly pink-and-purple glasses. Her face was full of sharp angles—her chin, her slender nose, her high cheekbones. She wore pink lipstick that looked freshly applied.
“We’re very late, I know!” she called to me in a surprisingly strong voice as I approached her. “We had quite the flight, and the drive from the airport took forever. But”—she motioned toward the gallery—“I didn’t want to miss this!”
Chapter 66
I reached the old woman where she stood next to the limousine. Her right hand rested on the top of a turquoise wooden cane, so she reached for me with her left hand, which I took in mine. I squeezed her hand gently, surprised to realize that I was fighting back tears.
“Judith Shipley?” I asked, just to be certain my emotions weren’t clouding my thinking.
“That’s right,” she said. “And this is my overprotective assistant, Gloria Hite.”
Gloria Hite and I nodded at each other. I seemed unable to find my voice.
“I found the invitation to Jesse’s gallery opening in a stack of papers on my desk early this morning,” Judith said, cutting a glance at her assistant. “Gloria knows I don’t like traveling anymore, so she took the liberty of making the decision for me not to attend. Had I known about it before this morning, we would have been here on time.” She gave Gloria a look of mock annoyance.
Gloria ignored the dig. “Let’s get you out of this heat,” she said.
“We are too late, aren’t we?” Judith said as we moved at a snail’s pace toward the gallery entrance.
I managed to find my voice again. “The … festivities ended at five, but you are very, very welcome.” My whole body tingled with the excitement of walking next to her. “You’re one of our featured artists,” I said. “I’m so happy you’re here.”
“That’s very kind of you,” she said. I could hear the Northeast in her voice. As I’d read the journal, despite knowing she was from New Jersey, I’d imagined her sounding like me. A born-and-bred Southerner. But now, her—or at least Judith’s—roots were clear.
We’d reached the gallery entrance. Through the glass doors, I could see Oliver behind the information counter, the mural a wall of color and craziness behind him. Taking a deep breath, I pulled open the door and held it wide for the two women.