Two-Part Harmony

About time. She would morph into a popsicle if they stayed in that pond any longer.

Back at the farmhouse, they each took hot showers then put on flannel pajamas and thick bathrobes and slippers before reconvening in the kitchen. Casseroles and salads dropped off by well-meaning friends filled the refrigerator, so they set the containers on the island and ate with their fingers while perched on stools.

She couldn’t remember being so hungry before. But like Megs said, Kelly hadn’t eaten since breakfast, either. And she’d been afraid that anything she ate at the funeral home would get stuck in her throat. She took a green bean from the three-bean salad and popped it into her mouth. She watched Megs as her sister chewed before having a sip of water. “So what was that out there at the pond?”

Her sister shrugged and concentrated on her plate of cheesy potatoes. “Needed to do something different.” Megs looked up and pointed at Kelly. “Ready for your solo tomorrow?”

Nice way to change the topic. “I think I know the words. We sang the song often enough in church as kids. And you’re switching subjects. Why?”

“Don’t like the focus on me. Never did.” She pushed her plate away from her, then patted her belly. “If I eat any more, I’m going to have a coronary. Sally put enough cheese in there to clog my arteries four times over.”

“That’s what makes them so good.” Kelly helped herself to some potatoes from Megan’s plate. “I can’t believe how much food there is. You won’t have to cook for a month.”

“It’s Lake Mildred. It’s what we do when someone dies. Feed the family that’s left.” She started to cover dishes and put things away. “But then maybe you’ve been gone so long that you’ve forgotten.”

“You won’t let that go, will you?”

Megs looked up from replacing the plastic wrap over the chicken and noodle casserole. “I guess I’m wondering how long you’re planning on staying this time?”

The big question. “I don’t know.”

Megs pursed her lips but didn’t say anything. She shoved the food back into the refrigerator, letting the plates and pans clink louder than necessary. Kelly left her stool and handed her sister the remaining bowl of salad. “What do you want me to say, Megs? That I’m moving back for good? Because we both know that would be a lie.”

Megs slammed shut the refrigerator door and glared at her. “What is so wrong with this place that you always have to leave? Why couldn’t you stay?”

“Why couldn’t you leave?”

They stared at each other for a moment, then Megs closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m going to bed. You can clean up the rest of the kitchen.” Her sister walked out, not looking back at her.

Kelly took their dirty plates to the sink and washed them by hand before putting them in the wooden rack that always sat out on the counter. Then she found a dishcloth and wiped down the counters. She snapped off the light and stared out the kitchen window to the backyard. To her left, she heard Sam’s pickup pull into the driveway. She glanced out the side door and saw him get out and run up the stairs to his apartment above the garage.

She couldn’t figure him out. He acted like a big brother to her own sister, but she doubted he felt the same toward her. It was something different. Like he didn’t know what to do with her any more than she did with him. Like when he’d hugged Megs at the funeral home but stood looking at her, waiting for her to handle the situation between them. Was she like a sister? Friend? More? Kelly still wasn’t sure.

The kitchen cleaned, she took the stairs up to her old bedroom, but hesitated when she was standing next to the bed. Over her shoulder, she glimpsed the open doorway. She snatched her pillow and walked down the hall to the closed door of her sister’s bedroom. Knocked once. Twice. Then she opened the door. “Can I sleep in here with you? I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

Her sister didn’t answer out loud, but pulled the covers back on the other side of the queen-size bed. Kelly smiled and crawled in next to Megs. She fluffed her pillow behind her head then brought the quilt up to her chin. Stared at the ceiling. Wondered if her sister had fallen asleep, or if she couldn’t quiet her mind from the memories like herself.

She got her answer when Megs flopped on her back and exhaled through her nose. “You’re thinking too loud.”

“And you’re not?”

She rolled onto her side, facing Kelly. “I can’t believe she’s really gone. I keep waiting to hear her calling me to help her figure out her meds. Or that we’re late getting to the bakery.”

“I keep expecting to see her in her favorite apron. The blue one—”

“With the butterflies. I know.” Megs sighed and fingered the edge of the quilt. “First Pop, then Daddy. Now Grammy. They’re all leaving me. And you will, too.”

Kelly glared at the ceiling. “I’m not leaving. Not right away.”

“But you will, and I’ll be all alone.”

Kelly moved onto her side to face her sister. If anyone was alone, it was her. Megs had a whole community behind her. What did she have? “The town’s in love with you and your pastries. You’re not alone.”

“Doesn’t feel that way.”

Kelly knew what she meant. She squeezed her eyes shut to try to hold back the tears. “Don’t get me started crying.”

“Maybe that’s what you need.”

The first wet drop followed the slope of her nose then down her cheek onto the pillow. Soon another followed just as silent.

Megs shifted onto her back. “Every night, after I gave Grammy her meds, I kissed her and came upstairs. I’d stand at the top of the stairs and yell down, ‘Good night. I love you.’ And she’d answer back, ‘Love you, too, Meggie.’ Tonight, I paused at the top of the stairs, but then realized I’m never going to hear that again.”

The only sound filling the house was the ticking of the grandfather clock downstairs. Suddenly, Megs called out, “Good night, Grammy! We love you!”

Silence answered back. In the dark, Kelly reached over and squeezed her sister’s hand. She raised her voice. “Love you always.”

They held each other’s hands and cried until they fell asleep.

CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_6b3a3326-47eb-521d-9c39-c167ee4dca98)

GRAMMY’S FUNERAL WAS held on a rainy Thursday morning. The number of people that showed up to pay their respects amazed Kelly. Addy Sweet had been a part of the community of Lake Mildred for over eighty years. She’d seen the town grow from a few hundred souls to over ten thousand. She’d survived the lean years and enjoyed the plenty. She’d been a fixture at the Sweetheart, and no one could imagine what the bakery would be like without her. Megs had inherited her baking gene, thank goodness. Because if they were depending on Kelly to create pastries then they would go hungry waiting.

Kelly tugged at the dark green cardigan that she’d thrown on over the simple black dress. The harsh colors probably washed her out, but then she looked pale no matter what she wore or how much makeup she put on. She hummed the beginning bars of her solo until a sob choked her, and she took a moment to calm herself. She could do this. She could sit through her grandmother’s funeral and sing her favorite song. She could say goodbye to the woman who had raised her since being a teen.

Oh, Grammy.

She entered the church and found Megs sitting in a pew at the front, kneading her bare foot. “I don’t know how people can wear heels all day.”

“I don’t know how you can stand all day making dough, so we’re even.” She took a seat next to her sister and tried to count the number of people in the other pews. “I figured there would be a good turnout, but this is too many.”

“She’s baked the cake for every wedding in Lake Mildred for sixty-plus years,” Megs said with a shrug. “As well as first birthday cakes, Valentine cookies and warm bread for the sick. People shared their joys and their sorrows with her. They loved her.”

“We loved her more.”

Megs gave a soft smile, then nodded toward the back. “I asked Sam to be one of the pallbearers. As well as Rick and some others who admired Grammy. But if you wanted to be one, I can add your name to the list.”

Kelly shook her head. “No. I’m having enough trouble getting up the courage to sing. I’ve had stage fright before, but I’m not sure I can do this.”

“You have to. Grammy would have wanted you to.”

“I know.” She inhaled and held a breath, letting it go in a hum. She started to cough, then waved her hand at Megs. “I need some air.”

The organ began playing, and both sisters paled. Megs gave her a shrug. “No time. Can you do this?”

Kelly nodded and squeezed her sister’s hand before walking up the three steps to the dais where the microphone waited for her. She grasped it, removing it from the stand. Bowing her head, she let the bars of the intro play. Told herself that this was like any other singing gig. She’d been born to do this. Then it was her cue. She lifted her head and opened her mouth.

Nothing came out.