There Was an Old Woman

Chapter Forty-two


Before Evie left, Mrs. Yetner told her to leave the keys under a whitewashed rock by the back porch where she could find them when she got home. As Evie sat in the passenger seat of Ginger’s minivan for the short ride from the hospital, she called work and left a message that she’d be out but checking e-mail.

When they pulled up at their mother’s house, Ginger sat there for a few moments staring out the car window. “Dear God,” she said. “You told me, but I really had no idea how bad it was.”

“Believe it or not, it was worse when I got here,” Evie said.

Headlights strafed the house, and a dark pickup truck pulled up alongside them. Ginger hit the automatic door locks. The driver-side window on the truck rolled down. Finn leaned out.

“That’s Finn Ryan,” Evie said. “His father owned the convenience store. Remember him?”

“I do.” Ginger rolled down the window.

“Hey,” Finn said. Then, “Oh, excuse me. I thought you were—” He did a double take. “Ginger?”

“Here I am,” Evie called across to him before Ginger could muster a response. “What’s up?”

“I came by to see if you wanted a ride to tonight’s meeting.”

For a moment Evie’s mind went blank. Then she remembered. His neighborhood conservancy group. “I’m sorry, Finn. I can’t make it tonight. They’ve moved my mother to the ICU, and I’m completely wiped.”

“ICU? I’m sorry.” After an awkward silence, he said, “Okay. Of course. I understand. Another time then?” He revved the truck engine and shifted into gear.

“Another time,” Evie called over the noise.

He smiled at her, winked, and took off.

“Finn,” Ginger said. “I certainly do remember him. He’s the kid who used to hang out in the back of the store. Kind of a geek.” She gave Evie a speculative look. “He turned out cute, don’t you think? What meeting?”

“Marsh preservation. A neighborhood group he belongs to. Actually, I get the impression that he started it.”

“Sounds like he thought you had a date to go with him, or—” Fortunately for Evie, Ginger’s cell phone chimed. She fished it out to read a text message. “Uh-oh. I’ve got to get home. Tony’s running a fever.”

“Tell him I said feel better soon,” Evie said as she started to get out of the car.

Ginger put her hand on her arm. “You sure you’re okay here alone? You could come home with me.”

“You have your hands full. Besides, I don’t want to catch whatever Tony’s got and then give it to Mom. That’s all she needs. And Ivory would be very annoyed if I left her without her salmon.”

“Tuna and mackerel.”

“Exactly.”

Ginger waited in the car as Evie went around to the back of Mrs. Yetner’s house and tried to fit Mrs. Yetner’s key into the back door in the dark. Piteous reproachful yowls came from inside the house, and Ivory jumped up on the windowsill and stared out at her. When Evie finally got the door open, she came around and waved to Ginger.

“You sure you’re okay?” Ginger called.

“Go!” Evie said, shooing her away.

As Ginger drove off, Evie went inside. The cat kept right on squalling until Evie picked her up. She settled briefly in Evie’s arms, then turned back to complaining as Evie put her down and hurried into the kitchen to find the cat food. Ivory was up on her back legs, begging, when Evie bent down and put the full dish on the floor.

While the cat ate, Evie rinsed out the can and tossed it into Mrs. Yetner’s recycle bin. There were already a half-dozen empties in there. Fancy Feast. That was the same brand as the empty cat food cans she’d found in her mother’s house.

Evie put fresh water in the cat’s bowl and crouched to set it on the floor by the food. While Ivory lapped some up, Evie noticed there was still a slight burnt smell in the air. She remembered—Mrs. Yetner had burned some chicken.

Sure enough, there in the sink a blackened pot was soaking. Otherwise, the room was in perfect order. Evie hadn’t noticed before that the kitchen had a wall-mounted phone with a rotary dial. The calendar beside the phone caught her eye. Calendars were one of those things people rarely saved, but were in their own way a Rorschach that said as much about the person as the era. She remembered Farrah Fawcett in that famous swimsuit on the calendar that hung on the wall at her father’s fire station. Mrs. Yetner’s calendar was from the Nature Conservancy, and April’s picture featured a trio of tiny owls, their bright green eyes wide open.

In some of the date blocks, Mrs. Yetner had written notes in her neat, precise hand. But in the last few days she’d written much more. Burned teakettle, the list began and went on, spreading over into later date blocks.

The poor thing. Maybe her nephew did have her pegged.

Evie picked up Mrs. Yetner’s keys and got ready to leave. But when she got to the back door, Ivory was pacing back and forth in front of it and yowling piteously. When Evie bent down and scratched the cat behind the ears, Ivory blinked, yelped once, and with a graceful leap landed on Evie’s shoulder. Then she stuck her nose in Evie’s ear and purred like a truck engine.

The message was clear. And why not stay overnight? This house was so much cleaner and cozier than her mother’s. Besides, Ivory wasn’t the only one who needed company.