“I want to do it right,” she said softly. “Not like how my mama raised me.”
She’d alluded several times to trouble with her mama, but I’d never pressed for more information. Now seemed like a good time. “What would you do differently?”
Before she could answer, Jenny Jane came back toward us. She was mouthing something, but I couldn’t quite figure out what. I was about to ask her to spell it, then realized that wasn’t going to work either.
“Name,” Delia finally said after staring for a long minute. “You want to know her name?”
Yes.
I glanced at Delia. “Any ideas?”
“Which one of us is Moriah least likely to recognize?”
“It’s a toss-up,” I said. We’d both gone to school with the younger Booth, but we hadn’t much to do with Moriah. “Did she ever go into Till Hex?”
“A couple of times. How about Potions?”
“Never.”
“You win,” she said.
Rolling my eyes, I hurried down the aisle to catch up with Moriah as she stopped to look at pasta varieties. I pretended to check out the canned beans opposite her and slowly backed up until I bumped into her.
“Oh my word!” I exclaimed. “I’m so sorry. What a klutz I am.”
“You’re fine,” she said. “No harm done.”
I glanced toward her buggy. “What a darling girl! Is it her laughter I’ve been hearing while shopping?”
Moriah held a box of angel hair. “She’s in a good mood today.”
“How old is she?” I smiled at the baby, and she gave me a toothy drool-laced grin that stole my heart.
“Nine months.”
“Oh,” I said. “She’ll be walmmnn snnn.”
I glanced behind me. Jenny Jane was hovering. Slyly, I motioned for her to back up. Fortunately, because she was fading, my right side hadn’t been affected by her close presence.
“Are you okay?” Moriah asked.
I coughed. “Sorry. Frog in my throat. I meant to say she’ll be walking soon.”
“She’s already standing up,” Moriah said proudly.
I held my breath as I said, “What’s her name?”
“Jennifer Jane,” Moriah said, a flash of emotion crossing her face. “Named after her grandmama, my mama.”
“It’s a beautiful name,” I said softly. “For a beautiful girl. I’ll let you get back to your shopping now. Sorry again for bumping into you.”
“No problem. You have a nice day.”
“Thanks,” I said, then headed back to Delia at the end of the aisle.
We watched as Jenny Jane waved good-bye to her granddaughter, and the baby waved back at her, her chubby hand flapping awkwardly, before Jenny Jane vanished.
“Damn allergies,” Delia said a second later, swiping her eyes.
I linked arms with her. “Let’s get out of here.”
As we walked to the checkout, she looked my way. “I saw you playing with that little girl. You lit up from the inside out.”
“She was sweet.”
“That’s not what I’m getting at.”
“I know.” I put the pie and forks and water on the conveyer belt and checked on Louella to make sure she was sleeping and not suddenly dead.
Hey, one could never be too careful.
Napping. Thank goodness.
Delia pulled her wallet out of her pocketbook. “All’s I’m saying, Carly Bell, is that maybe you can’t rewrite history, but it’s not too late to change the future if you set your mind to it.”
Chapter Twenty-two
Avery Bryan lived in a small Craftsman-style bungalow not too far from the Auburn campus, just off a main road filled with quaint boutiques, darling restaurants, and gift shops. As much as the University of Alabama was a religion in my neck of the woods, there was no denying the beauty of Auburn’s campus.
There was a car in the driveway of Avery’s house, but the shades were drawn, so I wasn’t sure whether she was home or not.
It was almost two o’clock on a weekday afternoon. Most people would be at work this time of day, which was something that Delia and I hadn’t factored in when we opted not to call ahead.
Delia parked at the curb. “Nice neighborhood.”
“Sure enough.” The homes weren’t the grandest, but they were well appointed and tended. It looked like a neighborhood with money.
I stretched my legs when I stepped out of the car, starting to feel the effects of the long ride. When I opened the back door to let Louella out, I looked up to find Avery leaning against her front doorjamb, confusion plastered across her face.
“Hi!” I called out as though I dropped in on her all the time.
Wearing tight jeans and no shoes, she came down the steps. “Carly, right?”
Remaining behind in the doorway was Haywood Dodd. I’d been right . . . he’d been down here with Avery. I flicked him an annoyed glance, and he hung his head.