I, Gracie - Sharon Sala Page 0,28

more tense, but he had no say in what she did or where she went.

Joel was at the registration desk when James walked up, and it didn't take a genius to figure out Joel and Mamie were fighting.

Mamie had her nose in the air and was wearing sunglasses. Her lipstick was slightly smeared, and she stood with her arms crossed and her back to Joel. He didn't know who to speak to first, but blood was thicker, so he chose his sister.

"Mamie, darlin'," he said, and put down his bag and hugged her.

Mamie fell into his arms, sobbing.

"Oh, James. It's all just so awful," she said.

"I know," he said, hugging and patting her.

Joel picked up their room keys and then turned around.

James extended his hand. "Joel, I hope you had a safe trip?"

"It was a long one," Joel said, and picked up their bag, leaving James with his hand out. "Mamie, are you coming?"

"We'll talk later," Mamie said, and followed her husband to the elevator.

James checked in without comment, took his key, and headed for his room. So, here they were, back in Sweetwater to bury their mother, and face the judgment of their sins.

Basically, the next two days were going to suck.

Darlene had a reservation in Sweetwater at the Best Western Plus. The suites were nice but lacking in what her ex-in-laws would expect. She was absolutely positive that the Dunham siblings would be at the La Quinta Suites because it had a pool, and pool or not, Darlene didn't want to sleep under the same roof with James Dunham, even if there were hundreds of other rooms between them.

The only one left in that family she cared about was Gracie, and as soon as she checked herself into the motel, she went straight to Big Boys Barbecue and got takeout for both of them, bought a six-pack of Cokes, then headed out to the farm.

She knew Gracie was hurting. It had been a long time since they'd seen each other, but they'd never lost touch. She wasn't going to wait until tomorrow. She would, by God, see Gracie now. They would share food, and cry, and whatever else it took to help Gracie get through this last long day before they put Delia Dunham in the ground.

She headed out of Sweetwater, knowing Gracie had been struggling to keep a roof over their heads and keep Delia in one piece, but even she wasn't prepared for the sight.

The old farmhouse was sorely in need of paint. The corrals were rusty. The cattle, the tractor, and the farm truck were gone. Except for the backend of Gracie's car parked behind the house, the place looked abandoned.

"Oh, honey," Darlene whispered, then pulled up out front, grabbed her purse, the food, the present her kids sent for Gracie, and headed for the front door.

She knocked, then waited, listening for footsteps. Then knocked again. Moments later, Gracie opened the door. The screen door was between them, and then Darlene let herself in. She put her things on the hall table and wrapped Gracie up in her arms.

The heat inside the house was sweltering.

The aging furniture and limp curtains looked as sad as Darlene felt.

But it was what she was feeling beneath the soft fabric of Gracie's shirt that startled her. She was skin and bone, and her back was covered in scars.

"Gracie Jean...what happened to you?" Darlene said.

"Mama," Gracie said. "I am so glad to see you. I'm sorry it's hot, but the central air hasn't worked in four years. Come into the kitchen. I have a box fan in there."

Darlene picked up her things and followed.

"The kids sent you a present. I brought barbecue. We will eat. And we will talk. I have a room at the Best Western, but I had to come see you before you were surrounded tomorrow."

"That smells so good," Gracie said, as she got down plates and forks, then unrolled paper towels for napkins.

Darlene was still on the threshold, staring into the kitchen. There were dark stains in the wood floor that hadn't been there before. Part of the ceiling was blackened, and there were no knobs on the stove.

"What happened in here?" Darlene asked, pointing to the ceiling.

"Mama set a fire trying to cook something when I wasn't looking."

"Holy shit. How did you get it out?"

Gracie grimaced. "I threw a big pitcher of sweet tea on the ceiling. It put out that fire, and the tea that fell down landed on the burning pan and put