was Joel, but they all paused in the kitchen doorway, eyeing the blackened ceiling and stained floor.
"What the hell has happened to the place?" James asked.
"You will sit down to get your answers, or none at all, and never raise your voice to me again," Gracie said.
"I'm sorry," James said. "I didn't mean—"
Daphne pushed him forward. They all sat.
Gracie started talking, but her face and voice were devoid of expression.
"The condition of this property is on your heads. We had a two-year drought. The tractor broke. The farm truck died. We had no money to fix any of it. I sold cattle to pay property taxes and Mama's medical bills, and within three years, all of the cattle had been sold off because there was no hay left in the barn, and no money to buy any. Mama got a Social Security check every month. We lived on that.
"Five years ago, Mama freaked, thought I was a stranger in her house, and nearly killed me. I spent a week in the hospital, and she spent a month in the psych ward. When I got well enough, I brought her home."
They were staring at her now, their eyes wide with shock, too horrified to even cry.
Gracie pointed to the floor.
"That's my blood. It won't wash out." She pointed to the ceiling. "Mama set a skillet on fire. It caught fire to the ceiling. That's the end result. The knobs to the stove are hidden in the drawer next to the refrigerator, behind the stack of potholders. And, every knife, every object that had a sharp point or anything that would cut, is up in the attic in Great-Grandpa Dunham's army trunk, beneath his uniform."
Daphne jumped up and ran outside, throwing up off the side of the porch.
Gracie stood with her arms folded until her sister came back, washed her hands and face at the sink, then sat down again.
Gracie picked up where she'd left off.
"It wasn't easy keeping up with our mother once she lost her fucking mind. She wandered away from me twice. First time, I put her down for a nap and went to clean the bathroom. I came back to check on her, and she was gone. It was November...cold and threatening snow. After a frantic search all over the house and outbuildings, I found a piece of her flannel shirt on the barbed wire fence and realized she was out on the prairie. I searched for her for a long time in the car. It was starting to snow. And then I heard Daddy's voice telling me to look up. When I did, I saw turkey buzzards circling and drove toward them. She was curled up in the grass. She thought the cows got out and went looking for them. Only they'd been gone for years.
"The last time I lost her was in the middle of the night. I found her in the dark, in the chicken house gathering eggs. But the chickens were long gone. She killed them one day in some delusional moment. Wrung all their necks."
James looked out through the window behind Gracie, staring at the vastness of that land and saw the truth of what abandoning Gracie had done.
Mamie had her face buried against Joel's chest. He was the only one with the guts to still face Gracie.
Gracie took a slow breath. "Mama didn't just get crazy. She got mean. And we went hungry. If it had not been for Darlene, we would have starved. She sent us two thousand dollars a month, every month, for six years."
James's head came up. "That's the alimony money I send her!"
Gracie frowned. "I know all about what you did, and your 'hush money,' as she calls it. She said she'd never take anything from you for as long as she lived, and she gave it to us because we needed it."
Joel shifted in his seat. "Gracie, I am profoundly sorry that we weren't contributing to your welfare. I sincerely believed we were, but I also blame myself for not following up to make sure."
Mamie wailed. "I'm sorry, Gracie. I just let time get away from me."
Gracie didn't even look at her.
Daphne cleared her throat.
"I was selfish and afraid. I didn't call you because I was afraid of Mama and didn't want to stay with her. I am so sorry."
Gracie stared Daphne down, refusing to accept her lame excuse.
"Bullshit, Daphne. You think I wasn't scared? You think I wanted to stay? I was afraid of her, too.