“Can we get one with an ice dispenser in the door?” Owen asked.
Merritt closed the refrigerator door and waited a moment, then opened it again. The light flickered on and the motor started whirring. “Well, that’s reassuring. Although I think it just fired a shot across the bow. I’ll call somebody to come take a look in the morning, but I have a feeling we’ll need to replace it. I was planning on gutting the kitchen, anyway—just not so soon. Although it would be nice to have a dishwasher.”
The doorbell rang, and if Loralee had been a betting woman, she would have bet her favorite push-up bra that Merritt’s face actually brightened.
“I’ll get that,” Loralee said. “You go on up and get that box for Gibbes, Merritt.” She hoped that Merritt would take the hint and do something with her hair. The next time Merritt left the house, Loralee promised herself she’d go into Merritt’s room and burn every single one of those hideous plastic headbands.
“Owen, you stay here and finish scraping food into the garbage and rinsing off the plates, all right? I’ll come back and help in just a minute.”
Loralee looked at her soaking boots, then over at Merritt’s discarded house slippers. Before she could imagine what she might look like, she slid on the slippers, then went to answer the door.
Standing next to Gibbes on the front porch was Deborah Fuller from the Heritage Society, whom Loralee had met before. She greeted them warmly and held the door open. The sky behind them had brightened, yellow beams of sunlight struggling to get through the clouds even though a heavy drizzle continued to fall. “Looks like the devil’s beating his wife,” Loralee said as she stepped back.
“What does that mean?”
They all turned to find Merritt coming down the stairs, her expression wary. It was Deborah who answered her. “That’s what you say when the sun is shining while it’s raining.”
A crease formed between Merritt’s eyebrows. “That’s an odd thing to say.” A forced smile lifted her lips. “If I’m going to live here, I should probably get a translation dictionary.” She crossed the foyer to the front door, carrying a white shoe box with a dark blue lid, two rubber bands crisscrossed over the top to hold it closed. When Loralee looked closer at Merritt, she had to try very hard not to smile. The white plastic headband was gone, and her dark hair had been brushed over her shoulders in a perfect natural wave. It was prettier hair than most wigs Loralee had seen, and she’d seen a lot. She almost did a double take when she saw Merritt’s lips. They were the palest pink with just a little bit of sheen to them. Loralee smiled to herself, remembering the lip gloss she’d given Merritt, telling her it was SPF protection, figuring Merritt would need a practical reason to wear it.
But there was something in the way she approached Gibbes, a wariness that reminded Loralee of a person driving down unfamiliar streets without a map. Or a teenager on her first date. Which was strange, because Merritt had been married for seven years. If there was one thing Loralee had taken away from all those years of being a flight attendant, it was her ability to see past what people wanted you to see. She scrutinized Merritt, remembering the photos of Cal she hadn’t wanted framed, and began to consider what Merritt might not want the world to see.
“Hello, Deborah. It’s good to see you again,” Merritt said after giving just a quick glance and nod to Gibbes.
“Hello, Merritt. I ran into Dr. Heyward at the Piggly Wiggly, and he said he was on his way over. I invited myself to come see the nutshell studies.”
“Yes, of course. The sky’s brightened a bit, so it shouldn’t be too dark in the attic.”
“Wonderful,” Deborah said, her eyes darting toward the stairs. “I can’t tell you how excited I am to see them. I’m even hoping that if we can reach an agreement, you might loan them to the police department for educational purposes.”
“I’m sure we can work something out,” Merritt said, heading for the stairs and then remembering the box in her hand. She held it out to Gibbes. “This is for you—it’s Cal’s box. I figure it means more to you than it does to me, so I want you to have it.”