told him to take the truck, and I’d find a ride home. Adam, would you mind?”
“We’d love your company, dear!” Mrs. Palmer said, patting her arm.
When the maintenance worker arrived to lock the doors, they all left, waving good-bye in the parking lot. The drive to the Widows’ Boardinghouse passed quickly, and Adam helped his grandma inside. As he got behind the wheel again, Brooke jumped into the front seat and saw Mrs. Palmer’s purple drawstring bag.
“Whoops, she left her cards,” Brooke said. “I’ll be right back.”
She dashed up the kitchen stairs and opened the door without knocking, as she always did. To her surprise, she found Mrs. Palmer still in her coat, the cane on a hook by the door, a giant plate in her hands as she ate voraciously. At the community center, she’d picked at her food like an injured bird.
Brooke came to a stop, unable to hide her grin. “Ah-ha, caught you!”
Her guilty expression gave everything away. “Oh dear. You already knew?”
Brooke nodded. “I didn’t share my suspicions with Adam.”
The widow put a hand to her chest. “Thank goodness.”
“Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”
With a sigh, Mrs. Palmer crossed to the table with her usual brisk gait and set down her plate. “I’ve been . . . exaggeratin’ a bit. I was desperate to get Adam to visit and perhaps stay. Oh, every year he flew in for a couple days, or he had me come visit him, but these last six months since his discharge . . . I’ve had a bad feelin’. Even my cards were tellin’ me somethin’s wrong. You see, I never got to be with him all that much when he was a child. Funny, isn’t it? He lived right here, but his mother, my only child, resented how close he was to me. She used me when she needed me, and when she wanted to punish me, she didn’t let me see Adam.”
Her voice broke a little, and Brooke felt a pang of answering sadness that brought tears to her eyes.
Mrs. Palmer held up her hand and gave a trembling smile as she went on. “I was her reward to him. When he was good and docile and did everythin’ around the house, he was allowed to visit me for a night. His clothes were too small and smelled like cigarette smoke”—she bowed her head and had to lay her hand on the table—“but if I gave him new things, he and I were both punished.”
“Oh, Mrs. Palmer,” Brooke said, putting her arm around the woman’s trembling shoulders. “How terrible for you.”
Mrs. Palmer stiffened and composed herself. “Not nearly as terrible for me as for Adam. He lived a neglected childhood, and I couldn’t do a thing about it. He almost ruined his life, but with the kindness of other adults, he found his way. Somethin’s wrong now—and I can help. Let me keep helpin’, Brooke, dear. Don’t tell him I’m well, or he might get it into his head to leave, thinkin’ I don’t need him.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “But I do need him. It’s been so wonderful havin’ him home.”
Brooke didn’t need to think long. “I won’t say anything, I promise.”
Mrs. Palmer briefly closed her eyes. “Oh, thank you. Now you better go before he gets suspicious.” She looked around frantically. “Ah, here’s Connie’s coffee cake. Take some to your mama, and that’ll be a good excuse for dawdlin’.”
After she’d put half on a paper plate and covered it in foil, their hands met as they exchanged the cake.
“Thank you so much, Brooke,” Mrs. Palmer said. “I hope the lies don’t weigh on you.”
“They won’t.” But she wondered . . .
When she climbed back into the pickup truck, Adam looked at her with concern. “I almost came in. She didn’t fall, did she?”
When he studied her closely, she only gave him a bright smile and stared out the windshield. “Nope, she just wanted to give my mom some coffee cake.”
On the drive home, she thought about her promise to remain silent. It wasn’t hurting Adam to think his grandma was getting feeble. She was in her late seventies and not the same as she used to be. And Brooke was getting lots of practice misrepresenting herself, lately.
But if she had any doubts, all she had to do was conjure up the images Mrs. Palmer had evoked, of Adam so neglected as a child. She knew he was keeping something from her, something that