“Come out, Beth, you can’t hide in there forever!”
“Scared?” asked Ms. Glassman, climbing the steps to the porch.
“She’s dotty,” said Ingrid, and glanced over her shoulder at Ms. Glassman. “I can’t get her to—oh my, it’s you two. Welcome back.”
“David and Marci were friends of Derek,” said Ms. Glassman. Ingrid nodded, as if she had only just now recognized us, and I wondered if she’d forgotten our names until Ms. Glassman mentioned them. Which would mean Ms. Glassman knew she’d forgotten and had reminded her smoothly and subtly. How long had they known each other to have such an established understanding? More and more every minute, I was getting the impression that no one ever moved out of this town, and no one ever moved in. Nothing had changed in Dillon in decades.
Someone inside the house muttered, though I couldn’t hear it well enough to understand the words.
“She says she not coming out,” said Ingrid. “Fool of a woman.” She turned toward the door and raised her voice again. “You have to come out, there’s a town meeting.”
“Stay inside where it’s safe!” said the voice.
“Beth’s a little excitable,” said Ms. Glassman. She walked up to stand next to Ingrid and shouted at the door. “We’re in charge of the refreshments, Beth. Did you make brownies like I asked you to?”
“No one’s going to the meeting,” called Beth. “We have to stay in our homes and lock the doors! Do you want get sliced up?”
“She’s worse every year,” said Ingrid. “I don’t know how much longer she can stay in this place alone, and that boy of hers certainly isn’t going out of his way to check in on her. It’s going to be us that puts her in a home, you know.”
Ms. Glassman sighed and banged on the door again, though she didn’t yell anything. She listened for a moment, then looked at Ingrid. “These two came back for the funeral. I’d put them up but Luke’s at home. Can they stay with you?”
“Of course, of course,” said Ingrid. “See what you can do with Beth, I need to pick up my banana bread anyway.” She walked down the stairs, smiled at Brooke and me, and waved us toward the house. “Come on!”
I stared at Brooke, who grinned impishly. We fell into step behind Ingrid, crossing the lawn between houses. I whispered in Brooke’s ear. “How on earth…?”
“Nice people do nice things for nice people,” Brooke whispered back.
“They don’t know us.”
“They think they do.”
“That’s not enough to invite strangers to stay in your home.”
Brooke laughed under her breath. “Are you complaining?”
“I’m wondering how these people went so long without being murdered by a serial killer.”
“This town is so small it makes Clayton look like Gotham City,” said Brooke. “They know each other, they trust each other, and they always see the good in people.”
“And look where that got Derek,” I said.
“Yeah,” said Brooke. “The only violent crime in at least fifty years. Theirs is truly a dangerous mindset.”
Ingrid climbed the steps and opened her front door with a flourish. “Come in! I’m sorry it’s such a mess, but I’ve been baking all morning for this town meeting.”
The house smelled like fresh bread and warm cookies. “Don’t worry,” I said, “this is perfect. And thank you so much. We can … pay you with chores or something? Would that be okay? We don’t have lot of money—”
“Obviously you’re going to work,” said Ingrid with a sly grin. “What am I, the US government? Room and board, though I’m afraid I’m a strict vegetarian, so there’s no meat on the table.”
“So am I,” I said. “I told you this was perfect.”
“The room’s back here,” said Ingrid, and she led us down the short hall to a trio of doors; the one in the middle turned out to be a linen closet, from which Ingrid pulled some clean sheets and towels. She opened the door on the left to reveal a guest room decorated in soft pink and lace; a queen-size bed sat in the middle of the room, covered with a pink comforter so thick and frilly I felt like I’d been miniaturized and stuck in a doll house. Pictures of cats and lighthouses filled the room like the world’s most adorable fungal growth. I felt like turning around and running away. Brooke’s face broke into a wide smile and she covered her mouth with her hand to hide the laughter already bubbling up to the surface.
“Oh yes,” she said, with just a hint of a giggle in the back of her throat. “This is perfect.”
“You can leave your things in here,” said Ingrid. “And I’ll ask you to keep the dog off the comforter—we can make him a bed with some of my old picnic blankets later tonight. For now, though, can you help me carry these things to the meeting? Consider it your first day’s rent.”