IN FOR A PENNY (The Granny Series) (4 page)

“You’d think, five years later, that I would’ve had time to go through them all. At first, I tried to search a bag a day, but Summer Haven was suffering.”

Maybe that was why the side veranda was sagging slightly. And the driveway was full of crabgrass.

“There must be a thousand scratcher tickets in each one of these, Lil. How many bags did Harlan leave behind?”

“I stopped counting.” Lillian swept at her brow.

By Maggie’s quick calculation of the number of bags flooding the 1200 square foot space of the carriage house, even at a dollar a ticket, could be more than tens of thousands of dollars. And the few Maggie had in her hand
were two and three dollar games. “He had to have spent a fortune.”

“He did. Trust me. He did, but he also collected all the discarded tickets. Harlan had sheets and sheets of paper with statistics on how many winners
were left in each of the games. He seemed to think he had some kind of system.”

“Not a good one.”

Lillian shrugged. “He thought he’d write all these off when he hit the big one. What an old fool.”

“
Crazy is what it is, and it’s time to let go, Lil.”

“This isn’t about Harlan.”

If that was what she wanted to tell herself, fine, but Maggie knew how hard it was to lose the love of your life, no matter how many shortcomings the man had. “This is why you’ve given me the runaround on the carriage house, isn’t it?”

Lillian nodded, but there was something hesitant about the motion. Sometimes tough love was the answer. Maggie grabbed a bag with two hands and started scooting it to the door. Her hips dislodged a stack of bags that tumbled in her way.

Lillian lurched toward her. “Stop. Where do you think you’re going?”

“It’s time to have a ceremonial bonfire.”

Lillian grabbed Maggie by the elbow, her fingers digging into bone. “No, ma’am.”

“Excuse me?”

“If you want to live in this carriage house so darn bad, then you’re going to help me go through the rest of these scratch-offs.”

Maggie’s heart dropped to her aching knees. That was
it, she was going to lose a good twenty pounds one way or another.
Weight Watchers, here I come.
“Have you lost your ever-lovin’ mind? You already said it’s taken you years to get this far.”

“Sometimes friends do things for one another, even when they don’t want to. Even when they think those things are crazy or they don’t understand why they should.”

“I guess you’re telling me this is going to be one of those times.”

Lillian nodded. The stubborn set of her lips—strangely pale and thin without her normal hot pink lipstick—said she wasn’t going to give in.

Maggie let go of the bag and straightened. They weren’t talking about lottery tickets anymore. “Lil, what’s going on around Sum—”

“Remember that time back in college when you asked me to loan you my biology lab notes and not ask questions? Well, this is one of those go-on-faith times.”

“Fine, but I am moving out of the big house as soon as we’re down to ten bags.”

Lillian reached out and hugged Maggie with surprising strength in her thin arms. Lordy, she
’d always been built like a bird, but she was thinner than ever.

The scratcher ticket search might nip away at a few of those
pesky pounds Maggie was trying to get rid of. Either that or she’d lose her marbles with the never-ending task and it would land them both in the loony bin.

On the bright side, at least she’d be a step closer to her own place.

Chapter Four

Lillian wandered through the second floor of Summer Haven, trailing her fingertips over a railing here, tracing the facets of a cut-glass doorknob there. She’d taken her home for granted. Assumed it would always welcome her with its pine floors, tall ceilings and wavy glass windows.

Ever since the day Momma had brought her into this world in the mahogany four-poster bed downstairs, Lillian never once doubted she’d live out all her days inside this house. How terribly wrong she’d been.

Since her trip to Atlanta almost two weeks ago, Lillian had barely slept. It seemed like all she’d done was wander the rooms, smoothing the coverlets on the upstairs beds and dusting furniture like she might touch a newborn. She felt the need to give the house extra care before she abandoned it. No one would ever love Summer Haven like she did. The least she could do is make it sparkle like Momma always had.

Was that a dust bunny in the far left corner? Lillian
got down on all fours to peer at the space bordered by cabbage rose wallpaper and stained wooden trim.

Nothing.
Not even a smattering of dust.

She crawled to the sleigh bed and crouched to look underneath even though she’d inspected it yesterday. All she saw was a gleaming expanse of the heart pine floors.
Just as they should be. Once yellow in color, the patina had gradually turned them into a rich russet tone that felt warm even on a winter day.

But she wouldn’t be here to enjoy them this winter. Her heart shriveled inside her rib cage.

Lillian pushed to her knees. Her knobby bones ground against the floor. She felt every one of her years today.

And aren’t I just a pity party without cake and punch?

She entered the Magnolia Room, the last room on her sad little tour. It overlooked the grounds out back. As a little girl she’d sit in the window here and watch the horses meander the fence line. This room had always been her favorite. It’s why she’d had Maggie move into it.

When Lil was gone Maggie could move into her room downstairs, unless she’d already taken up in that godforsaken carriage house. It would save money if they closed off this part of the house.

Lillian crossed the room and closed the door with a click of finality.

Would Maggie be able to take care of Summer Haven all by herself?

Lillian rushed down to the ground floor, almost tripping over her slippers in her hurry. She would not allow herself to climb those stairs again. No more of these little pity party sessions. She needed to spend her little remaining time handling Summer Haven’s growing list of maintenance needs.

That meant she had to get to trimming trees. Maybe not entirely on her own, though. She had a plan, but to carry it out she needed a ladder.

A little later, she hopped into Daddy’s Tucker Torpedo and headed to Darrell Holloway’s hardware store. As she entered, rather than the sweet tinkle of bells, something akin to a wounded warthog bellowed. Why the man thought that greeting was good for business, she’d never fathom.

“Hey there,
Miz Lillian,” Darrell called from behind the counter to her left. “What can I help you with today?”

“I need a new ladder.”

“What’cha gonna do with it?” Eyes narrowed, Darrell paused, clearly waiting for an answer.

His concern for her business was like three quilts thrown on top of a feather bed smack in the middle of August—stifling, oppressive and panic-inducing.
“Just some general house maintenance. Everyone needs a decent ladder tucked away in the tool shed, wouldn’t you agree? I was thinking I’d buy one of those metal ones this time.”

This time?
She should be ashamed of herself for lying to the man. She’d never purchased a ladder in her life. Daddy had always taken care of those things and then Harlan after him. Women’s lib wasn’t some newfangled idea, but she’d always been satisfied to be taken care of. And now here she was scrambling.

“Well now, how tall a ladder do you need?
We’ve got six, eight or ten foot. Or an extension ladder that goes up to twenty-eight foot.”

“That’s the one. I need an extension ladder. Tallest you got.”

He studied her. “You sure?”

Nosy man wasn’t going to let her get out of here without finding out her plans. “The yard at Summer Haven could use a little tree trimming.”

“Then you don’t need a ladder. You need to call Johnny Dean. He’ll come out there and fix you right up. Got his own cherry-picker and everything.” He reached for the phone on the counter. “Why don’t I give him a holler for you?”

She forced a smile. “I’m sure Johnny does lovely work, but all I need today is a ladder. Thank you.”

“All I’ve got is the fiberglass kind in that height. How you gonna get it home?”

Phooey.
She should’ve brought Maggie’s truck instead of Daddy’s car. But then Maggie would’ve wanted to come too. All this sneaking around behind her back was exhausting and made Lillian’s heart hurt.

But the ends were more important than the means.

“Think it’ll fit in the backseat of Daddy’s car?”

Darrell’s craggy face split into a smile. “What were you thinking to do? Straddle it through the back windows?”

She didn’t take kindly to his snarky response. “It’s not that far. Wouldn’t that work? I could put the top down.”

“Would hate to mess up that pristine upholstery.
Your daddy would haunt me for sure. Maybe we can let it hang it out of your trunk, but you’ll have to go real slow.” He let out a loud guffaw. “That ladder is gonna look just like a torpedo shooting out of the back of that car.”

She really didn’t see the humor in it.

“That should work.” She’d have to chance it. If she went back to Summer Haven to pick up Maggie’s truck, she might climb into her bed, pull up the covers and not come out until someone came to cart her away. “How much do I owe you?”

Darrell flipped through a catalog on the counter. “Those new fiberglass extension ladders are pretty precious. You’re looking at three and a quarter.”

Over three hundred dollars for a ladder. Lillian swallowed, trying to cover her shock. That kind of money for something you climbed? She’d hoped to pay cash, but that obviously wasn’t going to happen. “You know, I just realized I forgot my wallet. Would you mind putting it on the Summer Haven account?” She added that to her mental list. Another thing she needed to take care of so Maggie wouldn’t have to. God knew that big old house was enough of a financial burden without her compounding the problem.

“Sure thing,
Miz Lillian.” He jotted down the figure on a sticky note, stuck it to his register and then headed for the stockroom. “I’ll just go in the back and get that for you.”

Lord, if only that piece of paper would come loose and get lost somewhere.

She was just reaching for it when the warthog bellowed again.

Lillian jerked her hand back and turned to find Angelina Broussard, owner of Broussard Bed and Breakfast and the woman who headed up all the Summer Shoals holiday celebrations, entering the store.

“I saw your car parked out front. You’ve been hard to catch up with lately.” The woman tugged an envelope from a pocket on her huge designer handbag and thrust it in Lillian’s direction.

Lillian took the envelope and flipped it over. The golden seal and fancy lettering on the front were high quality. “What is this?”

A smile spread across Angelina’s face. That grin was so wide and her lipstick so bright that she seemed to transform into the Joker right in front of Lillian. “Honey, I’m the president-elect of the brand new Bartell County Historical Society.”

“The what?”

“Oh, yes. You haven’t heard?” Angelina fluttered a hand against her chest. Lillian knew darn well that Angelina had likely gone great lengths to keep the news of that committee out of her earshot. If anyone belonged on that committee it was Lillian Summer Fairview!

“Anyway,” Angelina said. “We’re doing site visits to all the historical markers in the county to ensure they are up to the standards we see fit for our reputation.”

“You’re mistaken, dear.” Lillian folded her arms and tried to steady her voice. No way was she letting Angelina and her posse traipse around the estate. “Summer Haven is not locally registered, it’s
nationally
registered.”

“Yes.
Exactly my point,
dear
.” Angelina placed her hand on Lillian’s arm. “The national registrars don’t care if the place is falling apart. We’re looking to raise those standards for Bartell County. We’ll help you. Don’t you worry.”

“Summer Haven is just fine, thank you very much.” Lillian lifted her chin and bit down hard to keep it from trembling.

“We’ll see. It’s all in the letter. Our site visit to Summer Haven is scheduled for the first week in August.” That bright-lipped smile was back. “You’ll want to be sure everything is shipshape or well…”

Yes, what Lillian wanted to say
was better left unsaid as well.

“Oh, and by the way, while I’ve got you,” Angelina added, “I wanted to chat about the July Fourth plans.”

Lillian’s heart cringed and tried to hide somewhere behind her lungs. This woman was bound and determined to get her goat one way or the other. “So early? You’re really on a roll this year.”

Angelina cocked her head. “Early? It’s less than a month away.”

All that mattered to Lillian was that it was more than twelve days in the future.

“I know it really goes without asking, but I wanted to confirm that you’ll lead the parade in your daddy’s car like you always do.”

Even if she were going to be around, she’d be hard-pressed to do this woman any favors after that little committee stunt. “Oh, I’m so sorry, but the Torpedo is due for some work and won’t be available for the parade this year.”

Angelina’s jaw dropped in a most unladylike way. “You’re not serious!”

Oh Lord, if she were any more serious, she’d lay right down on the floor and cry. “I’m sure you understand a car like that needs special care and attention.”

“Well, of course,” Angelina sputtered.

“Maybe you could ask Teague to lead the parade in his patrol car.”

“Now, Teague Castro in and of himself is a draw, but a Crown Victoria sheriff’s car? Even with the lights and sirens, it’s not very exciting.”

And now Lillian had one more thing to feel responsible for. Then an even bigger weight crashed down on her shoulders. Fourth of July was not only the biggest parade of the year, but it had completely slipped her mind that it was also Maggie’s birthday. How in the world was her best friend going to forgive her for all this? If the tables were turned, Lillian wasn’t sure if she could be so unselfish.

Then again, Maggie didn’t have a clue about the storm coming her way.

Darrell ambled through the store with the monstrous ladder above his head. “Alrighty, Miz Lillian, here’s your ladder. Since you don’t have any money today, I’ll put it on your account like we talked about.”

A flush bloomed across Lillian’s chest and raced up her throat to heat her face. “That’s kind of you. Just send me the balance and I’ll write a check out of the estate account.” And she would, if the darn thing had any money left in it.

Darrell muscled the ladder out the front door.

Lillian turned to Angelina. “Again, I’m sorry about the parade, but I’m sure you’ll find another lead car this year.”

“Fine,” Angelina said through tight lips, “but I’ll see you in August for that inspection.”

Oh, no she wouldn’t. But Lillian rushed toward the door with that threat hanging over her like a hungry black vulture. When she opened the door this time, that damned warthog fell eerily silent.