they got the permits. And they had to use native foliage and build special storm drainage ponds.”
“That boyfriend of yours will make an environmentalist out of you, you don’t watch yourself.”
Tracy didn’t correct the title. She wasn’t sure what Marsh was, but “boyfriend” was as accurate as anything else, even if it sounded like a word from another era.
“Anyway, if Alice is up to it,” Wanda said, “we’ll just wander a little, see if anybody there remembers the Franklins. We can take a little walk in the sanctuary, nothing else turns up.”
Since Alice’s return, they had mastered the art of mundane conversation, taking care not to bring up the subject of Lee. Now they chatted about the search for Herb’s family. Tracy had given up looking and was planning to pack up his stuff as soon as her job ended and she had time. Wanda had arranged this side trip as an excuse to stretch their legs and give Alice some exercise, but even she didn’t expect to turn up anything.
“I’m sorry we didn’t find that daughter of his,” Tracy said, “but nobody can say we didn’t give the whole thing a good try. I guess in the end we did everything we could for the old guy.”
They talked about the upcoming shuffleboard tournament and mural unveiling on Saturday, the need to buy Olivia’s school supplies with the school year starting in less than a week, the election. By the time Wanda consulted her directions a third time and found the right turn, they were ready to get out.
Pelican Way was one long block, a dead end made up of a mixture of small houses and two-story apartment buildings that looked like snowbird rentals. The street was at least a quarter of a mile from the water, and the houses that remained were run-down and might be rentals, too.
Everyone got out, with Janya helping Alice. Children were laughing and calling to each other behind one of the houses, and a motorcycle roared past before it cut into an apartment lot. Sidewalks were pot luck, so they walked on the side of the road instead. The street ended at a swampy creek with a couple of picnic tables and a disintegrating volleyball net. A short footbridge crossed the water to where a new street began.
“I’m trying to imagine this place right after the war,” Wanda said. “Baby boomers running helter-skelter, parents sitting on their screened porches, maybe having the neighbors over for highballs. Men talking about where they’d been, women talking about what they’d done while the men were gone.”
“A good place,” Alice said.
“Was it like that where you lived?” Tracy asked.
“Neighbors paid attention.” Alice had been walking carefully, feeling her way slowly with the cane to be sure she didn’t take a tumble. Now she looked up and smiled sadly. “Like mine.”
Olivia slipped her hand into her grandmother’s.
“I hate to say it, but I doubt anybody living here will remember Herb,” Wanda said. “Clyde, I mean. That was a long time ago. But I’m game to knock on a door or two.”
“We could try the houses.” Tracy silently counted seven, including one that looked as if it had been built as a duplex.
They started back up the other side of the road, walking slowly and chatting about which house to try first. Somebody’s television broadcast the evening news into the humid evening air.
Wanda stopped and pointed at a house sporting a poodle tied to a railing. “Gloria said Herb’s house was little, and the screened porch was up on concrete blocks, like that one right there.”
“And the one over there,” Tracy said, pointing across the street. “Not to mention that in the decades since she saw it, it might have gone through a renovation or two.”
“Okay, Miss Smarty Pants, you think we ought to start with the ones that don’t look anything like her description?”
“Whatever, but you’re going to be so embarrassed if that poodle takes a chunk out of you.”
“Me, I understand poodles.” Wanda sniffed and marched up the walkway, admonishing the little white dog as she got closer, until it slunk off into the bushes.
“I’m glad Wanda wasn’t my mother,” Tracy said.
Wanda tapped on the porch door and yoo-hooed, but nobody answered. She finally gave up and joined them at the curb. “What’s next?”
“I think the woman crossing the street might be,” Janya said.
Tracy turned and saw a woman Alice’s age or older bearing down on them from another house across the way. She looked like a leaf