my advice.”
“I didn’t, but—”
“She needs to be a child. Let her run free. Don’t forget she is officially half owner of that old farm.”
Thomas pulled the car through the opening in the stone wall to The Hay’s gravel driveway and came to a stop at the side porch door. He helped us out and we stood looking up at the facade under gray skies. Any strength I’d gathered wilted as it all came rushing back. Henry’s kiss in the barn. His love of that decrepit place. Terribly busy in the city, Henry had only done a few projects around the old place and in the weeks since his death, the house had fallen into deeper disrepair. The yellow paint peeled off the clapboard like giant pencil shavings and the lawn choked on its own crabgrass and dandelions.
“Is this the gardener’s cottage?” Betty said.
“No, dear. It’s the main house.”
Hornets flew in and out of a dark gash under the eave overhead, the only signs of progress being made about the place. Where was Peg to greet us? She’d come up two days before and knew I expected three things from her upon my arrival: food on the table, fresh flowers, and a fresh cocktail, none of which were to be found.
We wandered to the back of the house, under the shade of a generous maple tree.
Caroline pointed across the meadow. “Oh, Mother, look. Father had the little house moved.”
Mr. Gardener walked up the steep rise of lawn toward us. “Hello, ma’am. Misses. I mowed the hayfield, last time for the season. Got the remains of a great apple orchard out there. Some Sheep’s Nose apples. Virginia Crabs. None better for pies. Great spot for a garden back here, too,” he said with a rare smile. “Course this old maple would have to come down.”
Caroline turned to me. “Oh please, Mother. I’ve always wanted a garden. With sweet musk roses and eglantine. I could look out my window every morning and see it.”
I swatted away a tangled tornado of gnats hanging midair. “No tree shall be cut down, Mr. Gardener. I’ll never take down what God has put here. We have bigger concerns inside the house, Lord knows.”
Caroline and Betty ran off across the spiky, shorn hayfield toward the playhouse.
“No running,” I called after them. “Dr. Forbes…”
Mother and I stepped inside the house to find a leak sprung from the faucet, gushing like a geyser. With scrub brushes strapped to her feet, Peg skated across the floor, working up a lather with the pooling water. Thomas stood leaning on the stove, in animated conversation with Peg, as he sprinkled soap powder on the floor. Half of the water ran off through the open floorboards to the cellar below.
“Oh, Peg, we must do something.”
“Good to get this floor cleaned,” she said.
“Call a plumber, for heaven’s sake,” Mother said.
“I did, ma’am. Called yesterday and no one’s come.”
Caroline came to the kitchen doorway, pressing one hand at her side. “You should see, Mother,” she said, taking deep breaths.
“You were running—”
“Father had the little house moved and had someone make curtains for the windows and set it up with Shakespeare books.”
How wonderful of Henry, ever thoughtful. A stab of longing shot through me. How tragic I could not bring him back for her; the one always able to fix everything suddenly could do nothing.
She held out one hand. “Come see.”
I turned to the gushing sink. “Not right now, dear.”
“At least come out to the hay barn. Father loved it so.”
How could I tell her that was the last place I could visit, where Henry and I shared such tender moments? “Some other time, maybe.”
Caroline stepped into the kitchen, a tremor in her voice. “You don’t miss him at all.”
“Don’t cry, dear. And that’s not true.”
“You don’t show it. Acting like all’s well won’t make it so. Betty says in Girl Scouts they talk about their—”
I wheeled to face her. “I don’t want to hear another word about Girl Scouts.”
“You don’t let me do a thing I want to. If Father were here he’d be on my side. If I could, I’d live with Aunt Julia.”
“Putting on plays and pretending you’re accomplishing something worthwhile? Running around emoting all day, declaring your love to each other?”
“You might want to try it, Mother.” Caroline rushed out of the kitchen, slammed the door behind her, and ran back out toward the playhouse.
I turned to find Peg frozen in place, soap bubbles rising around her, as Thomas clutched the soapbox to