Ornamental Graces by Astfalk Carolyn

Author:Astfalk, Carolyn [Astfalk, Carolyn]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2016-10-06T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 26

Les retrouvailles

(Reunion)

While the aroma of banana bread had long-since dissipated from Grandma’s kitchen, the faint scent of her perfume lingered in her bedroom. Dan tossed aside a couple of pillows covered in white eyelet and sat, sinking into the deep mattress.

He spread a few snapshots with white, scalloped edges on the bedspread. Fingering the glossy paper, he stared at the black and white images. Two teenage girls in dirty dresses, their arms looped together, standing in front of a wooden-sided row house. A chubby middle-aged lady scattering feed to a couple of ducks. A young man in Navy dress blues, a huge smile on his face. On the back of each, someone had scratched a date in blotchy blue ink. Unfortunately, none of the photos were marked with the names of the people pictured. Who were they to Grandma?

He gathered them into a small pile and returned them to their shoebox. A small manila envelope in the box caught his eye. He opened the brittle flap and dumped the contents out. Spreading them across the bed, he fished through the papers trying to determine their importance when a knock sounded on the storm door.

Emily.

She had stood alongside him at the funeral parlor for two days, then at Mass and the cemetery service. Only after lunch had she said she needed to return to her brother’s for a while. She had agreed to meet him at Grandma’s once she’d taken a short nap and made some phone calls. He recalled her saying there was a problem with her luggage. He hadn’t realized anything had been missing when he’d picked her up at the airport.

“Come on in, Em,” he called. “I’m in the bedroom.”

The door opened and shut, and the sound of high heels clicked across the hardwood floor then padded up the carpeted steps. Several seconds later, Emily stood next to him rubbing his shoulder. He’d finally had a chance to take off his suit coat and loosen his necktie, and the sensation of her hand over his cotton dress shirt both charmed and soothed him.

“What are you looking at?” Her gaze moved over Grandma’s things. Emily had added a matching black knit sweater to the dress she’d worn for the funeral, its neckline a stark contrast to her creamy skin.

“Not sure. Lots of old pictures and papers.” He shuffled through some loose photos. “Look at this one.”

The photo pictured Grandma and Grand Pap outside their home. Grandma, dressed in a dark, pleated skirt that skimmed her knees, sat with her legs crossed on the hood of a 1946 Chevy Stylemaster. Pap stood next to her dressed in trousers, a light shirt and suspenders, his arm draped over her shoulder.

“Wow. That’s so classic looking.” She squeezed his shoulder. “Look how beautiful she was.”

He smiled, pushed the items aside, and patted the bed next to him.

Emily sat, tugging on the hem of her sleek black dress.

“Speaking of beautiful, I feel like I’m not supposed to notice at a funeral, but you looked amazing.

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