Chapter Sixty-Five Kiersten
Chapter Sixty-Five
Kiersten
Piper lowered the diary, and her gaze met Kiersten’s.
“Holy shit,” Piper said.
“I know.”
Piper rose from the couch and began to pace in front of the fireplace in Kiersten’s family room. “What do we do now?”
“We need to figure out if Dottie is still alive.”
“How do we do that?”
“Google.” Kiersten rose from the couch and grabbed her laptop from the kitchen counter. “If she died anytime in the last twenty years, it should be easy to find.”
She sat down and opened her laptop. Then she began to type, saying the words out loud for Piper as she typed them.
“Dorothy Davis Obituary.”
Her heart fell as pages and pages of listings came up. “I wish she had a more unique name.”
“We need to go through them all,” Piper said.
“That’s easier said than done.” Kiersten chuffed a sigh that lifted the hair on her forehead.
“Not finding her obituary could mean we aren’t looking hard enough.
Or it could mean there is no obituary to find because she’s still alive and well and living who knows where.
And maybe she divorced Dickie, got remarried, has a new name. ”
“Then we need to keep reading the diaries,” Piper said.
Kiersten glanced at the clock on the microwave. “Garrett and the boys will be home any minute.”
Piper retrieved her purse from the floor beside the couch. “I ordered pizza before we left for the shelter and then completely forgot about it. It’s probably been sitting on my front porch for hours.”
“How about this.” Kiersten stood. “You read the diary out loud while I make dinner. You guys can eat with us.”
“Are you sure?” Piper shot her a skeptical look. “Sounds like you’re getting the short end of that deal.”
“Look, I know you don’t want to hear this.” Kiersten opened her pantry and removed a bag of potatoes. “But Aspen’s Table of Sustenance actually works. I’ve done my meal prep, planned my menu two weeks in advance, and ordered all my groceries online.”
Piper crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow. “How Betty Crocker of you.”
“I’d rather be Betty Crocker than Kiersten who used to run to the grocery store five times a week and still had nothing for dinner,” she said, pulling a potato peeler from a drawer.
“So what are you making tonight?” Piper asked. “Filet mignon and a soufflé?”
“No, but I can whip up mashed potatoes and stick a pork tenderloin and some chicken nuggets in the oven.”
“Fine.” Piper pulled up a stool at the kitchen island. “I’ll be the Audible version of Dottie’s diary while you cook. I can’t say no to mashed potatoes.”
She opened Dottie’s diary and began to read.