the short hairs on her neck stood straight up.
“You rascal, you could have been talking to me all the time.” She shook her finger at the picture. “I might feel your spirit, but what I want to feel is your arms around me when I walk into the house.”
She waited and even looked up at the ceiling, but Smokey didn’t have anything else to say.
The motor home almost came to a stop, and then Luke slowly turned to the left. Tootsie went to the window, drew back the curtain, and looked at the trees lining the short lane. The sugar maples had already lost half their leaves, but what remained were deep red, orange, and yellow all mingled together. She opened the window slightly and breathed in the brisk fall air. Most folks called this football weather, but not Tootsie. This was going home to Scrap, Texas, weather, and suddenly she couldn’t wait to get into the house.
Luke brought the motor home to a stop. Tootsie hurried to the door and swung it open. “Home!” she squealed. “We’re here, and it hasn’t changed a bit.”
I’m waiting for you, darlin’. Let’s go in and let the memories begin, Smokey whispered in her ear.
Tears flooded her eyes as she planted her feet on familiar ground, the fall leaves crunching under her as she made her way from the motor home to the front porch. She hesitated a moment before she used the key to unlock the door. Smokey wouldn’t really be there when she went inside. He’d never be with her in the flesh again. She finally took a deep breath and thought about the last time they’d been there. He’d kissed her at the door, like always, and said, “Let’s go in and let the memories begin.”
“If that’s all I’ve got, then I’ll be grateful for every one of them,” she muttered as she opened the door and took the first step inside the old house. Nothing had changed. The forty-year-old sofa was still sitting against the far wall of the living room, and the matted and framed marriage license was still hanging above it. Stairs off to the right led up to three bedrooms and a bathroom. She headed straight ahead through a small kitchen and peeked into the utility room and bathroom before she went through the archway from the kitchen into the dining room.
After she’d made her way around the table and past the buffet, she stared at the door a full minute to build up her courage. Finally, she reached out and put her hand on the knob and turned it. She closed her eyes tightly as she stepped into the bedroom she and Smokey had shared for twenty of the sixty years they’d been coming here.
“You’re right, darlin’,” she whispered as she opened her eyes wide. “Your spirit is here. Don’t go away. I’ve got to get the girls settled in, and then I’ll be right back.”
She stopped at the door and looked back, imagining Smokey propped up on pillows at the head of the bed. He had a book in his hands, and he looked up and smiled at her. “I love you, Smokey. Thanks for giving me that memory.”
She rushed back through the house to find Luke holding the door for them as they brought their suitcases inside. “Luke, you can take that luggage up to the landing. Y’all girls can choose your rooms in a few minutes, but first let me show you through the rest of the house. It’s not very big, but after the motor home, it seems like a huge place. This side of the downstairs is fairly open. Living room, kitchen, utility, and small bathroom—mine while we’re here.” She gestured toward each as she spoke. Then she ushered them into the dining room. “That room right there”—she pointed to the open door—“used to be a formal living room. When Smokey had a knee replaced about twenty years ago and couldn’t maneuver the steps so well, we turned it into our bedroom. Smartest thing we ever did. We dang sure didn’t need a formal living room, and we were both getting too old to climb stairs.”
“I thought we were coming to a little cabin in the woods, not a big house like this,” Joanie said. “Who takes care of this when you aren’t here?”
“My friend Midge did before she took sick. Now she and Sissy hire a handyman to take care of it for us.” Tootsie remembered that there was