Page 104 of Stay Buried

“Margaret Endicott had an older brother, David Banks. He was my father. And Ashley is correct, Charlie and I grew up together, more like sisters.”

Malcolm was shaking his head. “But our grandmother grew up in Massachusetts. Near Boston with her father’s family.”

“Oh no, dear, not entirely. It was where Margaret went to ride out the flu. Charlie was born there, at a hospital in Boston. But later, when things improved, they returned home to Boone’s Ferry. Charlie lived here until she was sixteen. My parents and I lived just down the street, but then there was a fire, and we moved in with Charlie and Aunt Margaret when I was just a baby.”

“But I don’t understand. She always said she grew up near Boston,” Malcolm said. “Until she met our grandfather, then they moved to Vermont. She told us she’d never evenbeento Boone’s Ferry. That there was nothing here. None of our people left. Only ghosts. Why would she lie to us?”

Josephine slouched in her chair, rubbed at her hands as if they hurt. “It isn’t really possible, is it, to look into the heart of another? We think we know someone, but everyone has things they hide away. Unspoken reasons for doing the things they do. Their own secret engines driving them on.”

Ashley shivered a little.

Secret engines.

She wondered what secret engines drove her.

What had driven Gram and her mother?

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Josephine said. “I hope you two can forgive me. It’s just… I was trying to respect your grandmother’s wishes.”

“Her wishes?” Ash said.

The old woman nodded. “Your grandmother made it very clear that she was done with this place. When she left, she went back to Boston to live with relatives of her father’s there. I never saw her again. We spoke on the phone and wrote letters from time to time, but she never returned.” She looked on the verge of tears. “She wasn’t just my cousin,” she said. “Charlie was my best friend. My confidant. She didn’t even come back to town for my wedding. Never met my daughter and I never met hers.”

Josephine pulled away her glasses and wiped at her tears.

“Do you know what made her leave?” Malcolm asked.

“I suppose it was the reason most people decide to leave. Boone’s Ferry just doesn’t hold enough for them. They want bigger and better things. I can’t blame her, really. But I suppose the truth of it is, I’ve always been a little hurt. Hurt that she would leave me like that. Silly, isn’t it?” she asked, dabbing at her eyes. “To be this heartbroken over it even after all this time.”

“I don’t think it’s silly at all,” Malcolm said. “Is it, Ash?”

“No,” Ashley agreed, suddenly feeling awful that she’d been angry with Josephine when she arrived.

Malcolm reached out, took the old woman’s hand. “I’m really sad that my grandmother shut you out of her life like that, but grateful that we’ve connected now. I’m so happy to get a chance to know you, to have you in my life.”

She smiled at him, squeezed his hand. “I’m grateful too. And I can’t thank you enough for all the work you did for me today.” She pushed her glasses back on, turned to Ashley. “He’s fixed my shutters, put up all the storm windows, somehow managed to tighten the oldbanister so it doesn’t wiggle when I climb the stairs. He’s very clever. Good with his hands.”

Malcolm was glowing. “After lunch I can go to the general store, see if they might have that washer we need to fix the leaky sink.” He dove back into his food.

Josephine beamed at him. “You bring the old washer in to Pops, show it to him. He’ll find what we need.”

She turned to Ashley, speaking brightly now. “I understand you also met Sad Willy.”

Ash stared at Josephine. News traveled fast in these small towns. “I did,” she admitted.

“I hope you caught him in one of his more sober moments. Not that he has many of those these days. But he can be downright nonsensical when he’s got enough bourbon in him.”

“He didn’t seem too bad off.”

“He’s certainly a character, isn’t he?” She chuckled a little. “What on earth did you two talk about?”

“Oh, you know. This and that.”

The old woman studied her. “Well,” Josephine said, “it’s a shame you didn’t bring him for lunch. He loves my biscuits. But we’ll save him a few. Wrap them up with some jam and bring them down to him later.”

“I’m sure he’d like that,” Ashley said. “Terrible,” she went on, “what happened to him. To his wife.”

“What happened?” Malcolm asked around a mouthful of biscuit.