The Inn by William Patterson

flareups.. . .”
    â€œI know, I know! And believe me, if you find that he’s dead in a ditch out there, I’m not going to cry one single freaking tear over him.” She grew quiet. “But I thought I should at least report that he didn’t come home. I’ll let you take it from there.”
    â€œOkay, Tammy, I’ll mark it down,” Carlson told her.
    â€œYou’re not going out looking for him?”
    â€œHas he been missing for forty-eight hours?”
    â€œNo, just since last night, when he went out to get cigarettes at Millie’s store.”
    â€œOkay, well, then, you just keep us posted on whether he comes home, or not.”
    â€œAll right, chief.”
    â€œTake care of yourself, Tammy.”
    She promised she would, but Carlson doubted it.

18
    â€œY ou’ve got to talk to her,” Annabel said, alone at last with Jack in their room. “You’ve got to tell your grandmother that in asking us to take over the place, she has to give her consent to some modernizations.”
    â€œI’ll talk to her, babe,” Jack promised. “Gran’s just sentimental. She’s run this place a long time. She’s attached to the way she and my grandfather used to do things. And then my dad and mom . . .”
    Jack’s voice trailed off.
    â€œWhat about your dad and mom?” Annabel asked.
    â€œWell, Dad took over after Granddad died. And I remember he wanted to make some changes to the place, too, but . . .”
    Once again his voice trailed off. He walked over to the window and looked out into the tangled arms of trees.
    â€œWhat is it, Jack?” Annabel asked, her voice becoming compassionate. “Has coming back here made you think of your parents’ deaths?”
    He nodded, still looking out the window, away from her. “This 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.”
    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.
    â€œI hadn’t realized you had been visiting here when your mom was taken away to the hospital,” she said softly.
    He turned back around to look at her. “We 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.” His voice thickened and he couldn’t go on for a moment. “But it wasn’t 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€œI hadn’t realized she died so quickly,” Annabel said. “I 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.”
    Jack’s face darkened. “Well, that’s what Dad told me she died from.”
    â€œYou think it might have been something else?”
    â€œI don’t 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 who’d 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€œObviously, your father didn’t want to continue with her renovation plans after she died,” Annabel said.
    Jack shook his head. “He was too