I, Gracie - Sharon Sala Page 0,3

just beginning. I don't want this for you."

"And we don't want this for you, Mama. You have done everything for us all our lives. It is our honor to give back to you," Gracie said. "Your children are going to make sure you don't ever get lost again, okay?"

Delia threw her arms around Gracie's neck. "Thank you, baby girl. Thank you."

* * *

The sound of a passing vehicle pulled her out of the memory. That was then, and this was now. Her siblings had managed to show up at Christmas for two years after Mama's revelation, but at the last visit, her erratic behavior had made them uncomfortable, and they’d never come back. That was the year Gracie had put away her resumé and accepted the fact that her dream job as an event planner in Denver was as lost as Mama's good sense. Gracie had understood their fear of Mama, but she'd never thought they would quit her. Like Brother Harp, they had a lot to answer for, and she didn't accept excuses.

She popped the tab on her can of Coke and drank long and deep—even though it brought tears to her eyes—even though it burned all the way down.

There were three stale cookies still in the cookie jar. She ate one with the rest of her Coke and called it breakfast. By the time the hearse arrived, she was as mentally prepared as she was going to be.

And then they were on the porch and knocking.

She opened the door, eyeing them through the screen. She recognized the short man with white hair.

"Good morning, Miss Dunham. I'm Willis Decker. On behalf of Decker Funeral Home, you have our deepest sympathies."

"Thank you, Mr. Decker. You can call me, Gracie. If you'll follow me."

Willis Decker held the door as two other neatly dressed men came inside with a gurney, then they followed Gracie down the hall to her mama's bedroom.

Willis Decker was trying to get over the shock of their level of living. Between the heat, the dust, and the utter lack of comfort, it hurt his heart, but he was here to do a job, and so he turned to Gracie.

"If you'd like to step outside, we'll just—"

Gracie stood her ground. "Thank you, I'll stay. Mama is past suffering indignities, but as long as she's still under this roof, she is my responsibility."

Willis nodded. Gracie Dunham was obviously all business, and he admired a woman with grit.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, and then began directing his helpers.

Within a few minutes, they'd managed to get Delia's body onto the Gurney, covered up, and strapped down.

"These are the clothes she wanted to be buried in," Gracie said, and handed him a paper bag with everything carefully folded up inside.

Willis took the bag. "Yes, ma'am," he said, then they started through the house, going room by room, then out onto the porch and down the steps to the hearse.

Gracie watched with an aching heart.

Mama was gone from this house.

Willis came back and handed her his card.

"We'll let you know when the body is ready. We won't put her in a viewing room until you are satisfied with her appearance."

"You have the casket she wanted?" Gracie asked.

"Yes, ma'am, we do. Everything will be as she asked. We won't let either of you down." He paused, then added, "We'll need you to come in and sign some papers so we can set a date and time for the service."

"I'll be in later today," Gracie said.

"Yes, ma'am. Again, we are so sorry for your loss."

Gracie watched from the porch as they loaded Delia up into the hearse. When they closed the doors, her gut knotted. She'd just given her mama up to strangers. Somehow, it all seemed so wrong, but she stayed on the porch, watching until they left the property, then went inside.

It was time to notify her siblings. She went to look for her cell phone, hoping she could get a good signal from their satellite service today.

She got out Delia's address book with all the names and addresses and sat down at the kitchen table to make the calls, but each time she punched in a number, it came up as disconnected.

First James in Houston, then Mamie in Austin. And then it hit her. These numbers were their old landline numbers! Most likely, they'd done away with them and only used cell phones now.

None of them had called her. They'd used the old landline in the house to call Mama until she’d forgotten who