Chapter 13
By the time she arrived back at the Edwards’s house late Monday afternoon, Emily still hadn’t decided what she wanted for dinner. She was leaning toward pizza, but hadn’t fully committed to that option.
For now, she would drop off her violin. Then she would either go out or have something delivered.
Intrigued by the voices and laughter coming from the parlor, Emily paused instead of continuing past.
Glancing inside, she saw Dalton and Myra on opposite sides of a game table, playing dominoes. When she started to step back, Myra lifted a hand.
“Come in.” Myra motioned to her. “You’re not interrupting.”
“I was just dropping off my violin and then heading out to grab some dinner.” Even as she said the words, Emily realized how rude she sounded. She strolled into the parlor. “Who’s winning?”
“I am,” Dalton said. “For the moment.”
“Mrs. Fairfax will have dinner on the table in thirty minutes,” Myra announced. “Though you’re under no obligation, you’re welcome to join me.”
Emily glanced at Dalton. “I wouldn’t want to intrude on family time.”
Dalton pushed to his feet. “I should have left five minutes ago, but I pulled Gran away from her anagrams by tempting her with a game of dominoes.”
“Anagrams?” Emily asked, intrigued.
“I enjoy puzzles, and that’s what anagrams are—word puzzles.” Myra glanced at a side table that held a pad of paper and what looked like a bunch of scribbles. “I’m old-school. I write down the letters of a word or phrase and then rearrange them to form new words or phrases.”
“There are online tools and apps for generating and solving anagrams, but Gran wants nothing to do with them.” Dalton offered his grandmother a fond smile. “She likes to do it her way.”
“I also enjoy playing dominoes, though at the moment not so much.” Myra sighed.
“You can take my place,” Dalton said.
“You don’t have to leave?—”
“I have papers to grade.” He offered the excuse to both Emily and his grandmother. “I can stop by Saturday? Unless you have other plans?”
“No need.” Myra waved a dismissive hand. “You should be out with your friends on a Saturday night, not babysitting your grandmother.”
“I won’t be babysitting,” Dalton spoke firmly, his gaze now firmly fixed on his grandmother. “I’ll be enjoying the company of a woman who can be fun and witty when she’s not being a pain.”
Myra chuckled. “If you must come over, I suppose I can’t stop you.”
“Good to see you again,” Emily said to him when he turned to leave.
“You, too.” He flashed a smile at Myra. “Play fair.”
“What’s the fun in that?”
He chuckled on his way out of the room.
Myra shook her head, her lips curving. “Grandchildren are simply the best.”
“I imagine you’re going to miss Jaclyn not being here every night.”
“I am.” Myra’s expression grew serious. “I can’t deny I enjoyed having her sleep here. Do you know I stayed up late most evenings so we could chat once she arrived?”
Emily flipped over a domino and moved it into place. Recalling what Jaclyn had said about her grandmother had Emily wondering if Jaclyn had been as eager as Myra for those late-night conversations.
“You may be thinking that Jaclyn is somehow shirking her familial duty by not continuing to stay with me.”
Emily looked up from the dominoes in surprise. She’d tried to keep her feelings off her face. Had she somehow given herself away?
“You’d be wrong,” Myra continued in a matter-of-fact tone. “Jaclyn has her own life, and I’m extremely proud of all she’s achieved. She wanted this job at the Manse, and she went after it.”
“It’s impressive they’d give a position with such responsibilities to someone so young.”
“My granddaughter is an impressive young woman.” Myra’s eyes shone with pride. “She deserves this time and opportunity to shine.”
“I’m sure she’s doing a fabulous job for them.” Emily played her last tile.
“You won.” Myra held out her hand, and when Emily extended hers, they shook. “Good game. Dalton will be pleased that you didn’t squander his lead.”
Emily cocked her head. “Are you up for another game?”
“You don’t need to play if you don’t want to.”
“I enjoy dominoes,” Emily assured her. It was true. When she and her friends hadn’t been playing cards, they’d loved playing dominoes or, sometimes, Sequence Dice. “I’m up for another game, unless you’re too tired?—”
“Not too tired at all.” Myra gestured to the violin case. “If you like, I can wait while you take that to your room. I promise not to touch any of the tiles until you get back.”
Emily laughed. “I’ll hold you to that promise.”
In a matter of minutes, Emily returned, dropping into the chair she’d vacated only minutes before.
“Your move,” Myra instructed.
Emily lifted a tile with six pips and placed it end to end with another one with six. “Your turn.”
They played in silence for several minutes, drawing tiles from the leftover dominoes pile when they were unable to play.
“Mrs. Edwards,” Emily began.
“Please, call me Myra.” A tiny smile lifted the woman’s lips. “If you’re going to be asked to potentially save my life, we really should be on a first-name basis.”
Emily stilled. “Is your heart condition that serious?”
“That’s what the cardiologist tells me.” Myra placed a domino with five pips next to another, then motioned to Emily that it was her move.
“Is that why they want you to have the surgery?”
Myra’s eyes remained focused on the dominoes. “My doctor wants to implant an ICD, an internal defibrillator.”
“Sounds major.”
“Major enough.” Myra waved a dismissive hand. “Enough about that. I have to admit that I’m curious about where you went with your violin.”
“I played in the park.” Just saying the words and recalling how good it felt had a smile blossoming on Emily’s lips.
Myra cocked her head, a domino poised in her right hand. “Really?”
“This was the first time I played on a Monday. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I attracted quite a crowd.” Emily’s lips quirked upward.
“How was it?”
“Magnificent. I played a cover of Elvis Presley’s ‘Can’t Help Falling in Love,’ and the crowd went wild.”
“Walt and I saw Elvis in the late ’60s in Las Vegas.” Myra’s eyes took on a faraway look. “He put on an incredible performance.”
Emily watched Myra set down her domino, then she took her turn.
“I believe I’d enjoy hearing you play sometime.” A wistful look stole across Myra’s face. “Walt and I loved music. All different kinds. Sometimes, when I think back to the times when I held his hand in a concert hall or swayed in his arms on a dance floor, I wish I’d not taken those moments for granted.”
“Sounds as if you and Walt had a wonderful life together.” Emily recalled how the couple had always been mentioned in the newspaper’s society column, back when society columns had been a thing.
“We did.” Myra’s voice turned as flat as her expression. “He’s in a better place, don’t you know? That’s what everyone says, anyway.”
After ninety-two years on this planet, Emily had heard every platitude offered when a loss occurred.
They are in a better place.
You’ll see them again one day.
Time heals all wounds.
“My father was my rock. When he passed, I can’t tell you how many times I heard that ‘everything happens for a reason.’”
Myra sighed. “I’ve been the recipient of that one as well.”
Emily shook her head. “Well, if that’s true, I’m still waiting for the reason. He was a good man who worked hard his entire life and was gone too soon.”
“My Walt enjoyed a long, happy life.” Myra didn’t even glance at the dominoes. Her gaze was now focused out the window. “We’d been married sixty-two years when he passed, but it was still too soon. You say your father was your rock, well, Walt was not only my rock, he was my everything.”
Emily expelled a sigh. “I always hoped to find such love. I thought I’d found it, but he didn’t stick around.”
It was entirely fair to blame Vince for everything, but at the moment, Emily wasn’t feeling particularly charitable.
“You’re young. You have plenty of time to find the right one.”
“For some reason, that platitude isn’t any more comforting to me than ‘everything happens for a reason.’”
“You know, sometimes, when I lie in bed, I think of Walt and want nothing more than to be with him.”
“Is that why you don’t want to have the procedure?” Emily spoke softly.
Myra opened her mouth, then shut it.
“How did we get off on this subject?” Myra gave a little laugh. “I believe it’s your turn.”
On Thursday, Emily decided to head to Maplewood Park to see if any work had been done on the renovation. Actually, it went beyond that. She found herself yearning for the familiar.
Myra was up early, dressed and leaving her room at the same time Emily’s feet hit the hallway.
“Good morning.” Emily smiled brightly. “Do you have an appointment this morning?”
“I’m going out. Somewhere. I’m not sure where, yet. But I’ve been spending too much time inside lately.” Myra studied Emily’s jeans, T-shirt and sneakers. “Where are you headed?”
“I heard there are possible plans to renovate Maplewood Park in honor of that woman who died there.” Emily found the words didn’t sit right on her tongue. “The civic volunteer.”
“Matilda Beemis.” Myra gave a nod. “I read about her death in the paper.”
“Would you be interested in coming with me to the park? We could check it out together.” Emily kept her tone casual and offhand. “Maybe afterward, we could grab a late breakfast?”
“Your shift ended at seven,” Myra reminded her. “You don’t need to watch over me during the day.”
“I didn’t plan to watch over you.” Emily offered a smile. “Though if you need my help, or I need yours, I hope we’ll both be there for one another.”
Emily let her gaze scan the park and wondered if she’d gotten so used to seeing it as it was that she’d failed to notice just how run-down it had become.
“Oh my.” Myra stared. “I didn’t realize there were any parks in GraceTown this shabby.”
“The Parks Department budget keeps getting cut.” Emily spoke in a matter-of-fact tone, forgetting that, as an outsider, this was something she shouldn’t know. “They’ve tended to focus their efforts on the more affluent areas of town.”
“Ken is on the city council.” Disappointment filled Myra’s voice. “I can’t believe he’d condone something like this.”
“He may not be aware.” Emily decided to give the man the benefit of the doubt. “The budgets are presented, and if there are no objections, they’re usually adopted.”
Myra shot a sharp glance in Emily’s direction. “You seem very knowledgeable.”
“I did some investigating when I read that Maplewood might be renovated by volunteers.” Emily shifted her gaze from Myra to study their surroundings. “There is a lot of work to be done here. That will be expensive.”
“Yes.” Myra spoke absently, as if raising the funds wasn’t of any concern. “Do you know who is spearheading the renovation?”
“Just what I read in the newspaper.” Emily chose her words carefully, not wanting to appear too knowledgeable. “The article said something about a group of Miss Beemis’s friends getting together to do it.”
“I was involved in a renovation at Funland,” Myra admitted.
Funland had been a thriving amusement park until it had shut down in the 1960s. Emily had fond memories of going there as both a child and a young woman.
Emily opened her mouth to comment, but Myra continued before she had a chance. “Our project wasn’t a city park, but the considerations would be similar. I have a good understanding of the steps that need to take place.”
“Perhaps you could help Matilda’s friends,” Emily suggested. “You know, lend them your expertise.”
“Oh, my dear,” Myra waved a dismissive hand, “that was ages ago.”
“Doesn’t mean your experience isn’t still valid.”
Emily might have said more, but Myra had gotten that bulldog look, so she let the subject drop.
“I guess what they’ll do first is start clearing out the trash and junk,” Emily mused, taking note where someone had dumped several large black garbage bags. “The equipment clearly needs to be replaced. Merry-go-rounds like this one may be a hit with kids, but they aren’t safe.”
“They need to start by formulating a vision and goals.”
Myra must have seen the question in her eyes, because she added, “You always start with a vision for the renovation. Then you determine what improvements or changes you want to make and figure out how they align with community needs and interests.”
Healthy color was in Myra’s face, and the fire in her eyes now hadn’t been there earlier. Emily wondered if becoming more involved in the community again was just what Myra needed.
“We could haul off some of this trash,” Emily suggested, then glanced back at Myra’s Town Car. “But I’m not sure if you want it in your trunk.”
Myra shook her head. “I’ll take care of it.”
Emily smiled to herself as Myra pulled out her phone and made a call.