flareups.. . .â
âI know, I know! And believe me, if you find that heâs dead in a ditch out there, Iâm not going to cry one single freaking tear over him.â She grew quiet. âBut I thought I should at least report that he didnât come home. Iâll let you take it from there.â
âOkay, Tammy, Iâll mark it down,â Carlson told her.
âYouâre not going out looking for him?â
âHas he been missing for forty-eight hours?â
âNo, just since last night, when he went out to get cigarettes at Millieâs store.â
âOkay, well, then, you just keep us posted on whether he comes home, or not.â
âAll right, chief.â
âTake care of yourself, Tammy.â
She promised she would, but Carlson doubted it.
18
âY ouâve got to talk to her,â Annabel said, alone at last with Jack in their room. âYouâve got to tell your grandmother that in asking us to take over the place, she has to give her consent to some modernizations.â
âIâll talk to her, babe,â Jack promised. âGranâs just sentimental. Sheâs run this place a long time. Sheâs attached to the way she and my grandfather used to do things. And then my dad and mom . . .â
Jackâs voice trailed off.
âWhat about your dad and mom?â Annabel asked.
âWell, Dad took over after Granddad died. And I remember he wanted to make some changes to the place, too, but . . .â
Once again his voice trailed off. He walked over to the window and looked out into the tangled arms of trees.
âWhat is it, Jack?â Annabel asked, her voice becoming compassionate. âHas coming back here made you think of your parentsâ deaths?â
He nodded, still looking out the window, away from her. âThis was the last place I ever saw my mother. She was here one day, absolutely fine. Next thing I knew, she was gone, off to the hospital in Boston. I never even knew she had cancer until she was gone.â
Annabel walked up behind him and placed her hand on his back. Jack so rarely spoke of his parents, especially his mother. She died when he was in his teens of breast cancer. Now that Annabel knew he had lost a little sister as well, she felt tremendously sad for her husband. His childhood had been filled with tragedy.
âI hadnât realized you had been visiting here when your mom was taken away to the hospital,â she said softly.
He turned back around to look at her. âWe had come up here to start the process of helping Gran after Granddad died. Mom had been pretty excited about the idea. She had lots of ideas, just like you.â His voice thickened and he couldnât go on for a moment. âBut it wasnât meant to be. Within a week of us getting here, she suddenly got sick and Dad took her to Boston. I never even had a chance to say good-bye. I just came downstairs one morning and Mom and Dad were gone. Dad came back late that night and told me Mom was in the hospital. She died a few days after that.â
âI hadnât realized she died so quickly,â Annabel said. âI mean, to seem so completely healthy one day, and then be rushed to the hospital and die a few days later . . . breast cancer is usually a far more lingering illness.â
Jackâs face darkened. âWell, thatâs what Dad told me she died from.â
âYou think it might have been something else?â
âI donât know. But it always did seem so fast and strange. The last time I saw Mom, she was happy and singing and down there in the parlor supervising some workers whoâd come to do renovations. She was excited to have a project. She had so many ideas about fixing the place up. And then she was gone.â
âObviously, your father didnât want to continue with her renovation plans after she died,â Annabel said.
Jack shook his head. âHe was too