Love, Special Delivery

Their faces—younger, yet not young—came back to Mandy. Growing up, she’d seen them at town festivals, at school events, at the ice cream parlor.

“One day you’ll have to tell us about your grandfather,” Agnes said in an I’m-so-sorry tone of voice, the kind that always brought tears to Mandy’s eyes. “I always admired George and Blythe for taking you kids in when Teri was—”

“A flake.” Rose returned to the living room with a glass of milk and indicated Mandy sit up. “Your mother is a flake.”

Olivia stopped chewing. She claimed a blind admiration for their mother. Mandy had given up arguing with her about Mom years ago.

Rose handed the milk to Mandy, paused and put on an apologetic smile. “No offense.”

“None taken.” Mandy bit into another cookie, making short work of the sweet treat. So much for casserole. “Have you seen my mother in town recently?”

“No.” Rose returned from the kitchen almost immediately and handed Olivia a glass of milk. “You need some fresh baking soda in that fridge.”

“Vinegar,” Mildred said.

“It smells like there might be something dead underneath.” Agnes leaned down to admire Olivia’s handiwork. “Those are very pretty nails.”

Her praise won Olivia over. She preened. “If you like that, look at my feet.” She’d done them yesterday.

Agnes bent over, hands on knees. “Are those fireworks or chrysanthemums?”

“Fireworks.” Olivia wiggled her toes.

“Are you licensed?” Rose drifted closer to Olivia. “We’ve got a hairstylist in town, but not a nail lady.”

“Not yet. I’m going to cosmetology school in a few months. My grandpa left me money, but said I have to wait until I’m eighteen to collect.”

Mandy’s feeling of comfort evaporated. She couldn’t look at her sister.

“We heard your grandfather had dementia.” Mildred’s hand found Mandy’s and squeezed. “Was it bad?”

“It was,” Olivia said before Mandy could do more than nod.

“It was worse at the end,” Mandy said in Grandpa’s defense. As his kidneys failed and his organs shut down, his touch with reality hung by a thread. He hadn’t slept more than an hour at a time. He’d wake up and sing at the top of his lungs, and not always with the right words.

Glory, glory hallelujah. Glory, glory with a poodle.

“Well...” Agnes tilted her head toward the door, perhaps noticing the mist in Mandy’s eyes. “We won’t take up any more of your time. Let us know if you need anything.”

Now that Mandy was full of sugar and dinner was in the kitchen, her smile felt uncharacteristically carefree. “We’re looking to rent a place.” Too late, Mandy realized that statement opened the door to unanswered questions about why they couldn’t live in this house.

Other than a fleeting display of creased silver brows, the town council didn’t seem to care.

“Oh.” On her way out, Rose pivot-turned at the door. “There’s a cute place around the corner that used to have a beauty salon in the garage. It might be the perfect place for a nail salon.”

“We’ll get you the owner’s information,” Agnes promised.

Olivia beamed, while Mandy wondered how much more expensive a home would be to rent with a salon inside.

After the town council left, Mandy and Olivia stared at each other.

“Just this once,” Olivia said with a sly grin, “can we have cookies for dinner?”

“I hate that we think alike.” But she loved that no eggshells had been broken between them.

They each ate three more cookies and drained their glasses of milk.

CHAPTER FOUR (#u57945a2e-938e-5c0d-96c7-e6c0b5161a40)

“HANNAH, THAT SNAKE is not coming inside.” Ben’s mother sounded flustered. She’d raised two boys and been around firemen all her life. Nothing ruffled her feathers.

Except, it seemed, a seven-year-old girl.

“But the snake is already inside.” Hannah’s calm voice, stating a fact.

Another crisis. Ben hurried to unlace his boots. Still in his navy blue uniform, he ran to the kitchen, assessing the situation as quickly as he would an emergency call.

Hannah held a slender gray snake that was about two feet long. Its small head rested between her thumb and forefinger. The rest of it was coiled around her forearm. Thankfully, it was only a garter snake.

Looking frazzled, his mother stood on sandaled tiptoe, backed into the corner of the dark kitchen cabinets. Her hands clutched her orange flowered tunic. Her short blond hair was uncharacteristically spiked up in front. If Hannah brought the snake any closer, she’d probably climb into the double metal sink. “Ben, thank heavens. Hannah slipped away again and she—”

“I didn’t slip away.” Hannah sounded weary of overprotective adults. Where Hannah used to deal with one parental unit, now she dealt with three. “You were taking a nap, so I went for a bike ride.”

Ben bit back a smile.

“Fine. Yes. I took a nap. That’s what grannies do because children are exhausting.” There was a hysterical edge to his mother’s voice. She gripped the counter so ferociously Ben was surprised she didn’t embed a fake French nail in the butcher block. “But for once, honey, can you go on a bike ride and not bring home a critter?”

Hannah pushed her glasses up her nose with her free hand. Her knees were dirty, and her thin blond hair hung half out of its single braid. “I only bring home the lost and the injured.”

Sensing an opportunity, Ben knelt next to Hannah. “That snake looks fine to me.”

“He has a kink.” Han gently pulled the snake’s tail away from her arm so he could see.

“Take it out of the house, please.” Mom shuddered. “I cook meals in this room.”

“Hannah,” Ben said in the patient voice he’d had to use a lot since he’d taken his godchild in. “That kink isn’t something a stay in the infirmary can fix.”

The infirmary. That’s what Han called the wall of cages and terrariums in the garage. Mom hadn’t wanted to keep animals in the house, period. But Hannah had insisted. It was the only time since her mother’s death that the little girl had cried.

“But...” Hannah’s eyes turned watery. “Iggy needs a friend. The other snakes make fun of him.”

Mom gave Ben a look that said: you better set that kid straight.

Ben stood and took Han’s snakeless hand. “Little Iggy might have had friends back where you found him. They might have been better at hiding without a kinked tail.”

“We have to take him back?” Han asked, lips drawing into a pout.

Ben would’ve relented, if not for Mom’s vehement nod of the head.