Been There Done That (Leffersbee #1) - Hope Ellis Page 0,76

sighed out, “Haven’t you taken enough?”

“I don’t wanna be your fucking friend. And it’ll never be nearly enough.” I walked past her and headed to the door. “See you soon.”

Chapter Seventeen

Nick

My palms were sweating.

I knew this house, knew the woodgrain pattern of the big door by heart. I’d gripped the brass lip of the intricate lion head knocker countless times, even helped pick out the four-foot giant brass statue of a honey bee that resided next to the door.

I’d grown up here.

But I was unsure of what to expect. It’d been too long. I didn’t know what was waiting for me on the other side of the door.

Several seconds passed, with no indication of movement from inside. I’d just raised my hand to knock one last time, now almost eager to return to my truck, when I heard the tumblers in the lock engage. The door swung inward.

Ellie Leffersbee stood on the other side.

Her face didn’t register any surprise. She craned her neck up at me, blinking against the strong, mid-afternoon sun. New lines extended from the corners of her dark eyes. I’d never realized just how much Zora looked like her until this moment.

“Nick Armstrong.”

“Yes, ma’am.” My voice came out rusty.

“Well, you look like you grew up fine.”

“I hope so.” My heart beat a little harder. I cast around for the right words to say, to offer to the now painful silence, and came up empty.

A smile split her face. “Get over here and hug me, boy!” She threw the dishtowel in her hand over one shoulder and threw open her arms to me.

Relief and gratitude rushed through me. I bent to enfold her in my arms. That familiar scent I’d always imagined as powered doughnuts surrounded me. And just like that, I was back to all the comforts of my childhood, returned to the origin of all that I was.

“Come inside.” She grinned even wider before gesturing for me to follow her into the house. “I was wondering how long it would take you to get here. I imagine you and Zora have tortured each other sufficiently? Needed a breather?”

“Uh . . .” Was she psychic? She’d already known I was here? Had Zora told her mother I’d seen her without pants yesterday?

I followed Mrs. Leffersbee as she led me from the foyer, past the formal dining and sitting rooms to the kitchen. Even now, all these years later, I could navigate this house blindfolded.

“Sit down,” she said, gesturing to the kitchen table as she headed to the fridge. “Sweet tea?”

“Yes, ma’am.” I looked around the kitchen where I’d taken so many meals with Zora and her family. Much of it was the same, save for new cabinets and flooring. But this wood table, scarred and faded in places, was the same. I lowered myself onto the end of the long bench and my knees only just made it under the table. I ran a thumb across that warped spot I remembered.

And the honeybees were still here, tucked all around the kitchen. Ceramic bees, glass bees, gold bees. When I was a teenager, I’d asked Mrs. Leffersbee if her fascination with bees started after she acquired her husband’s last name.

“After, of course,” she’d said. “I thought it would be best to celebrate having a new, peculiar last name. As time went on, I learned how fitting it was.” Her voice had lost some of its light. “Sometimes being a Leffersbee means taking a few stings before you get any honey.”

She hadn’t smiled when she said that.

The bulletin board next to the fridge memorialized past events and Leffersbee accomplishments. I took in the pictures and papers jockeying for position on the crammed corkboard. Faded programs for Audre’s high school graduation, an award ceremony for Walker’s photography. Newspaper clippings about Zora’s research. Tavia’s new employee bio from an accounting firm in New York. Ah, and the funeral program for Bethany Winston.

Seeing this reminder of Bethany’s death made me ache with missing my own mother. I wished there was still a place I could go to see Lila Rossi again, somewhere like this, where we could be surrounded by our history together.

So much had changed.

Zora was right. I’d never looked back.

“Hard to believe isn’t it?”

I startled as Mrs. Leffersbee drew near and set a glass of sweet tea at my elbow.

“That she’s been gone this long?”

I looked back at the smiling photo of Bethany. Beloved Mother.

“Yeah. It is.”

She returned to the fridge and returned with a plated cake under a glass