The Loveliest Dead by Ray Garton Page B

always heard that people who are going crazy never wonder if they’re, going crazy. So I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”  
    Jenna smiled. “You mean, you believe me?”
    Kimberly took a bite of her biscotti and washed it down with a sip of cappuccino. “One night when I was fourteen years old, about fifteen minutes after I’d gone to bed, when I was just about to fall asleep, my grandma came into my bedroom and kissed me, told me she loved me, and said good-bye. She turned and left my room and closed the door. I was wide awake then, so I had to go to sleep all over again, and I was lying there starting to drift off, when I realized that Grandma wasn’t at our house, she was up in Crescent City with Grandpa in their house, so she couldn’t have come in and kissed me goodnight. The next day,. I found out Grandma had died the night before of a heart attack. About the time I went to bed.”  
    Jenna sipped her coffee. “Did you ever tell anybody?”
    Kimberly nodded. “I told Mom. She cried and hugged me. But she never said whether she believed me or not. I haven’t told anyone since, but I’ve never doubted what I saw. I remember smelling Grandma’s minty breath, her perfume. I felt her hand on my chest, her other hand on the top of my head. Even though she couldn’t possibly have been there, she was there.”  
    Jenna said, “If you’d told me that story a week ago, I would’ve smiled politely and tried to change the subject as quickly as possible. I wouldn’t have believed you.”  
    “Now?”
    “Now ... I don’t know what I believe.”
    Kimberly smiled. “It was so easy when we were kids, wasn’t it? We just believed whatever our parents told us. Then we grew up and found out they were desperately winging it.”  
    “My mother winged it pretty well, and she did it all by herself.”
    “Your parents were divorced?”
    Jenna shook her head. “They never married. Mom’s never talked about him much, but I know he didn’t want a family. She decided to keep me, but not him. Or maybe it was his decision—I don’t know. He came back here, where he was from, and moved back in with his parents. He lived here with them until they died, then lived in the house alone for the rest of his life. He killed himself there about nine months ago.”  
    “Did you ever meet him?”
    “I talked to him on the phone once when I was nine. I thought maybe I’d like to meet him, get to know him. But he wasn’t interested.”
    “He said no?”
    “No, he said he’d meet me if I wanted, but he made it clear there would be no relationship. So I figured ... why bother?”
    “Do you like the house?”
    “It needs work. Unfortunately, so does David, my husband. I don’t suppose you know of a garage that’s desperate for a great mechanic, do you?”  
    “ We’re desperate for a great mechanic,” Kimberly said, flattening a palm to her chest just above her generous breasts. “Ours retired last year. We had him for twelve years and we trusted him completely. We haven’t been able to find a good car guy since.”  
    Jenna smiled. “Then David’s your man. Are you having problems?”
    “There’s something wrong with the Durango—it’s idling fast. My Harry’s a sweetheart, but he’s about as handy as a clubfoot at a dance competition. He’s a genius at real estate, but he doesn’t know the first thing about cars. Do you think your husband would be willing to take a look at it for us? We’d pay the going rate.” She reached down and removed a pen and a business card from her purse. She wrote on the back, then handed it over to Jenna. “Here’s his card. That’s our home number on the back. Talk to your husband, then call me this evening.”  
    The card read simply, “Sand Dollar Realty,” and below that, “Harry Gimble,” with the address and phone number below his name. Jenna couldn’t wait to tell David. It was only a single job, but he needed something, anything.  
    “Back